Page 45 of Warlord’s Plaything
45
XYRON
I have one night to stop her from ruining everything.
One night before Hira makes the worst fucking decision of her life.
One night before she binds herself to a clan that is already sharpening the chains for her throat.
And I don’t have a plan.
Yet.
The tunnels behind me are silent, heavy with the weight of soldiers who no longer believe in the war we started.
Hira is locked in her own mind, stewing in grief, in duty, in the fucking weight of all we’ve lost.
She won’t listen to me.
Not without proof.
Not without something that makes this undeniable.
So I’m going to find it.
Even if I have to dig through the wreckage of my father’s corpse to do it.
The entrance to what’s left of Herox’s stronghold is unguarded.
Not It’s safe—there’s nothing left to protect.
Smoke still curls from the ruin, flames licking at broken stone.
The scent of charred flesh lingers in the air.
This was my father’s legacy.
His empire.
And Kaelith tore it apart like it was nothing.
I wasn’t there.
I was rotting in chains and unable to protect what’s left of my father’s legacy.
I wasn’t enough.
I push the thought aside before it eats me alive.
I don’t have time for ghosts.
Grief is a luxury I don’t have.
I have one goddamn night.
And I will not let Hira walk into that marriage blind.
The shadows welcome me.
My steps are silent, my body moving through the rubble with practiced ease.
What’s left of my father’s study is half-buried under the collapsed eastern wing of the stronghold.
I find it by instinct—by the scent of old parchment and the memory of a place I spent my childhood watching my father carve the future into ink and blood.
The door is barely hanging on its hinges.
The room is wrecked—papers scattered, furniture overturned, broken glass catching the flickering glow of the dying torches.
But the cabinet at the back?
Still standing.
Still locked.
And I know my father better than anyone.
If there was ever a truth worth hiding, it’s in there.
I break the lock with a single twist of my blade.
Parchment spills onto the floor, old maps, trade agreements, half-written letters of war.
But I’m not looking for those.
I’m looking for what they tried to erase.
What they burned the city to hide.
And then?—
I see it.
A sealed letter.
A small, dark vial.
And the symbol etched into the wax makes my blood run cold.
An orc clan seal.
The paper is worn, edges burnt, but I pry it open with shaking hands.
The words inside are quick, sharp, and straight to the point.
A message from the Council.
A message from Kaelith.
A message confirming what I already fucking knew?—
And what Hira refuses to see.
"The deal is secured. The poison has been provided. Your warlord will not survive the month. When his son falls, you will rule the ashes. The chieftains agree to uphold their end of the agreement. Your victory is assured."
I can’t fucking breathe.
This was never just about war.
Kaelith didn’t just kill my father.
The orc warlords helped him do it.
And now… Now they want Hira as a prize.
"Fucking bastards,” I growl.
My hands are shaking, my nails digging into my palms as I stare down at the betrayal in my hands.
This is the proof.
This is what I need to stop her.
But fuck—fuck?—
This means something worse.
This means Menias knew.
He’s known this whole time.
He didn’t come to save Hira.
He came to deliver her to them.
He came to tie a bow around her throat and hand her over to the same people who slaughtered her mother, the same people who poisoned my father.
I take a slow, shuddering breath.
I shove the letter into my coat.
Then I pick up the vial.
Dark liquid, thick, almost black under the dim torchlight.
Poison.
Orc-made.
A death sentence in a glass bottle.
A goddamn signature of betrayal.
I turn toward the door.
Toward the burning territory.
Toward the tunnels where she waits, still believing she has a choice.
She doesn’t.
Not anymore.
I’m going to show her what she’s really agreeing to.
I’m going to make her see.
I will not let them take her.
Because she is mine.
And if they want her?—
They’re going to have to fucking bleed for it.