Page 17 of Warlord’s Plaything

17

XYRON

T he fire starts before I even reach the gates.

It licks up the stone walls like a living thing, hungrily devouring the banners of House Herox, smoke curling into the air in thick black coils.

The flames are too strong, too well-placed.

This wasn’t a mistake.

This was a fucking war declaration.

And I know exactly who set the match.

"It’s them, isn’t it?" Kaelith’s voice is cold beside me, his silver hair glowing in the firelight.

I don’t answer immediately.

Instead, I watch the flickering chaos as warriors scramble to control the blaze. Shadows move just beyond the fire’s reach.

I see the flicker of bare skin, the glint of stolen steel.

They think they’re fucking clever. Moving unseen through the tunnels they dug beneath my feet. I’ve known about the tunnels for months. The gladiators have always had a way of surviving, of moving where they shouldn’t. Scraping out holes in the underground, carving pathways beneath the arena, hiding like vermin in the dark.

And I’ve let them.

Because watching a rat scurry is more entertaining than crushing it outright.

I catch sight of her through the flames.

She’s faster than the others.

More ruthless.

A blade in one hand, a torch in the other.

And fuck me—she’s beautiful in destruction.

Like she was born for it.

Something inside me tightens.

Something hungry.

Something that shouldn’t be there.

But it is.

And it’s only getting worse.

"Secure the south tunnels," I murmur to Kaelith, watching as the rebels scatter, retreating through their hidden paths like insects scurrying from the light.

"Force them to one exit. I want them funneled into a corner with no way out."

Kaelith smirks.

"You’re hunting her, aren’t you?"

I don’t answer.

Because we both fucking know.

I wait.

I listen.

The smoke is thick, curling in my lungs, filling my vision with nothing but heat and ruin.

But I know she’s still here.

She hasn’t run yet.

Because Hira never runs.

Not until she’s forced to.

And I plan to force her.

She moves through the tunnel entrance, thinking she’s unseen. But I step into her path before she can disappear into the dark. Smoke and blood paint her like a war goddess, like something untamed and fucking perfect.

"Going somewhere?"

My voice is low, rough.

She reacts instantly, body tensing, blade flashing.

"Out of my way, warlord."

I smile.

"Make me."

She moves first.

Of course, she does.

A lunge, sharp and fast, but I catch her wrist, twisting, slamming her back against the tunnel wall. She snarls, bites out a curse, fights like she’s made of raw fucking fury.

And gods, I love it.

I press closer, pinning her, feeling her heart hammer against me.

"You call this war?" I murmur, mocking.

She bares her teeth.

"Call it whatever the fuck you want. I’m not stopping."

Her breath is hot against my jaw, her pulse racing.

And fuck—this isn’t just a fight anymore.

This is something else.

Something thick with heat.

With want.

With something we don’t name.

"You lost." I whisper the words against her ear, feeling the way her body shudders.

She hates that I’m right, that she can’t break me like she breaks everyone else.

"Fuck you," she breathes.

And I fucking grin.

"You will."

And then?—

I knock her out cold.

She slumps, unconscious in my arms, breath still ragged.

I lift her easily, feeling the way her body fits too well against mine.

Like it was meant to.

Like I was always going to catch her in the end.

"Take the rest of them into custody," I order Kaelith, voice even.

"Kill the ones who resist."

Kaelith studies me, then nods.

"And her?"

I glance down at the woman who has done nothing but defy me from the moment I saw her.

At the wild, reckless fucking creature that has sunk under my skin like a buried blade.

"She’s mine."