Page 60 of Warlord’s Plaything
60
HIRA
T he battlefield is silent.
The air is thick with the aura of blood and magic, but the worst is over.
The dead do not rise again.
The temple is nothing more than ruins, its dark power sealed forever.
Kaelith is gone.
The orcs stand at a distance, watching, waiting, uncertain of what comes next.
Menias is among them, his gaze unreadable, his fate now his own.
The rebels who survived kneel among the broken earth, weary, battered, but alive.
And me?
I am standing.
Not alone.
Not anymore.
Xyron is beside me.
Bruised. Weak. Breathing.
His eyes burn into mine, filled with something I do not know how to name.
Something more than victory.
Something deeper.
Something unchanging.
And it terrifies me.
I know what it is.
And I am not ready.
But he is patient.
He has always been so gods-damned patient with me.
So he only tilts his head, amusement flickering over his bloodstained lips.
"Are you going to say it?"
I blink.
"Say what?"
His smirk is weak but infuriating.
"That you love me."
My throat tightens.
The words are there.
Resting on my tongue.
Instead, I grab the front of his armor, pull him against me, crush my lips against his with all the desperation of a woman who almost lost everything. His arms wrap around me, holding me tight, like he is still afraid I might vanish. His kiss is rough, unyielding, full of fire and war and everything we are.
And I pour everything into it.
Everything I cannot say. Everything I have fought against. Everything I have ever been too afraid to feel. And when I pull back, breathless, raw, I finally whisper.
"You already knew."
The survivors rise.
The orcs do not attack.
Menias watches but does not interfere.
And Xyron and I?—
We walk away from the ruins together.
Side by side.
Not rulers.
Not conquerors.
Just two broken souls who found something worth living for.
And that is enough.
The weeks pass in a blur.
The remnants of Herox’s people regroup, rebuild, find a new way to live.
The gladiators who fought for their freedom choose their own paths—some staying, some leaving, but all finally free.
Menias vanishes into the wilderness, no longer my enemy, no longer my family.
We find our own way forward.
It is months later when he finally asks me.
We are standing beneath the stars, the air warm, the aroma of night-blooming flowers filling the air.
He turns to me, eyes soft, something unreadable flickering beneath them.
"Mate with me."
I inhale, my heart stuttering.
This is meant to be.
He would wait until I was ready.
And I do not fight it.
Not anymore.
I reach for him, threading my fingers through his silver hair, tugging him down to meet my lips.
"Yes."
The word is quiet.
But it is enough.
He smiles against my mouth.
And he claims me.
The mating ceremony is simple.
Just us.
Just our people.
Just a new beginning.
And when the final rites are spoken, when the bond clicks into place between us, I feel the last of my walls finally fall.
This is where I was always meant to be.
Not in the pits.
Not in the rebellion.
Not in a war I never asked for.
But here.
With him.
I am not afraid.
"I love you."
Xyron laughs, low and dark, wrapping his arms around me, his breath hot against my ear.
"Took you long enough."