Page 22 of His to Break
KARA
Ilean against the cold stone wall of the barracks, a smirk creeping across my lips as the captain strides toward me. His muscles ripple beneath his dark skin, a testament to his strength and discipline, but I can feel it—the crack in his resolve. My fingers trail down his arm, teasingly light.
“I need a favor,” I whisper, my breath hot against his ear. The warmth of my voice wraps around him like a tendril of smoke. His eyes glaze over, caught in the pull of my power.
“Bring me a couple of your soldiers. I want to… talk to them.”
He nods, dazed, as if entranced by my presence. A flicker of triumph dances in my chest; this is what I crave—the control that once eluded me.
Minutes later, two dark elves are dragged before me, their bodies taut with fear. I can smell their adrenaline mingling with the sweat on their skin. It’s intoxicating.
“Get up,” I command, my voice low and sultry. They stumble to their feet but can’t meet my gaze—eyes darting around as if seeking an escape that doesn’t exist.
The captain stands at attention behind me, expressionless as he cracks the whip against their backs. The sound echoesthrough the barracks—a sharp crack followed by anguished screams that reverberate off the walls. Blood splatters across the stone floor like crimson paint, and I watch with gleeful satisfaction as it glistens in the dim light.
“Again,” I order, relishing the power thrumming through me. My voice drips with pleasure, and it feels good—so damn good—to see them writhing under his blows.
Another lash cuts through the air, and this time one of them falls to his knees. The other stands firm for now but can’t hide the tremors coursing through him.
I laugh—a sharp sound that pierces through their pain—and step closer to them. “You think you’re safe?” My voice dances with malice as I kneel before the soldier still standing. “You’re nothing but pawns in a game you don’t even understand.”
Their eyes widen with terror when they finally meet my gaze—recognition dawning on them just how deep they’ve sunk into despair.
The captain hesitates behind me; his face remains impassive but I sense an uncertainty lurking just beneath his disciplined exterior.
“Do you want more?” I taunt, tilting my head slightly while locking eyes with him again. “Or shall we keep playing?”
But before he can respond or strike again, something shifts behind me—a presence lurking in the shadows of the barracks that sends a chill racing down my spine.
I turn slowly to find Azrael standing at the entrance, arms crossed over his broad chest, those piercing eyes taking in every detail of this twisted scene unfolding before him. There’s a flicker of something dark within him—an unease mixed with intrigue—and for a moment everything freezes between us.
“Is this how you plan to gain power?” he asks softly but pointedly, stepping further into view where shadows dance around him like flames licking at wood.
My heart quickens at his unexpected arrival; adrenaline spikes and mixes dangerously with exhilaration coursing through me from dominating these soldiers.
“They deserve this,” I shoot back defiantly. “They’re nothing but tools for their masters.”
The captain stands there, whip in hand, glancing between me and the trembling dark elves at my feet. I relish the power surging through me; it fills the space with a heady rush that drowns out everything else.
“Again,” I command, voice smooth as silk, laced with an undercurrent of authority. The captain hesitates but doesn’t meet my gaze. He’s caught between fear and obedience, and I drink in the chaos I’ve sown.
But before he can strike again, Azrael’s voice slices through the air like a blade.
“Enough.”
I spin around, narrowing my eyes at him. His towering figure blocks the light from behind him, casting an imposing shadow that momentarily silences my triumph.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my tone sharp. Anger flares inside me as he steps closer, frustration etched on his face.
“You’re becoming reckless, Kara.” His words hit like a slap. “If you keep this up, they’re going to kill us both.”
I wipe a streak of blood from my cheek—warm and sticky—remnants of my earlier delight. The smile that had danced across my lips fades as reality crashes back in. “I’m taking control,” I snap defiantly.
Azrael shakes his head slowly, disappointment heavy in his gaze. “You’re losing control.” He steps forward and grabs my arm with an iron grip, pulling me away from the dark elves sprawled at our feet. “This isn’t the way. Not yet.”
I jerk my arm free from his grasp, fire igniting behind my eyes. “You don’t want to support me,” I accuse, voice rising witheach word like a crescendo building toward chaos. “You’re afraid of me.”
His jaw tightens; I can see it clench beneath his skin like a coiled spring ready to snap. “I’m afraid you’re going to get yourself killed,” he snaps back.
