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Nyana’s laughter was airy, amused. “Theron will do as I tell him. As he always has.” She looked me over, her lip curling. “Do you think the boy truly loves you?” Her gaze was condescending, belittling. “A slave turned concubine?”
A flare of anger went through me, but I refused to let her see it. “I’m his mate,” I shot back, “and he seems perfectly fine with that.”
She waved it off. “A temporary distraction.”
“Tell yourself that.”
“Oh, darling, I raised him,” Nyana said, her tone dripping with scorn. “His weaknesses, his desires. I know everything. Has he told you any of the stories from his youth? How he’d cry and beg as his brother tried to teach him to be strong?”
My grip on the dagger tightened. “I know what you did to him. How you tormented him, killed his father.”
Nyana’s smirk faded. “Theron was weak. Always so emotional, so easily hurt.”
“You mean like Rhazien?” I threw back, his name like acid on my lips as I took a step forward. “Do you want to know if he begged when he died? If he called out for you?”
Nyana’s eyes flashed, the first crack in her façade of calm superiority. “You whore.”
“Call me whatever you want. I’ll still kill you, just like I did him.”
Nyana hissed, her eyes narrowing as she stepped away from the table. “You’ll pay for that.” She uncoiled her bracelet from her arm, and I realized it was a whip.
I tried to dodge her attack, but I wasn’t fast enough. The lash struck me across the face. The force of the blow sent me stumbling back, my hand flying to cover the red welt blossoming on my cheek. I advanced on her, my fingers curling around the dagger’s hilt. Not the weapon I’d like against hers.
As I lunged toward her, a cacophonous clattering filled the room. Heavy bars crashed down over the doors, sealing us in. A hidden door flew open, a horde of soldiers surging forth. Each one bore a chillingly familiar dark metal collar around their necks, their eyes void of sentience, driven only by the will imposed upon them.
Nyana chuckled, her voice a venomous whisper as she danced out of my range, pulling a long stiletto knife from the table. “Did you believe it would be that easy?”
Zerek and Roza attacked, their weapons clashing in a symphony of metal against metal, echoing throughout the room. Roza yelled over the noise, “Kael! Focus on Nyana! We’ll handle the guards!”
I turned my attention back to Nyana, even as the chaos raged around me. She moved with grace and skill, each movement calculated, every step part of a greater dance. I realized I wasn’t facing a mere politician. Nyana was a strategist, yes, and a warrior.
We circled each other, predator and prey, each seeking an opening. She snapped her whip, and I dodged out of the way, rolling to my feet to strike. My dagger clashed against her thin blade. She was quick, her moves unpredictable. With every thrust I made, she deftly parried, countering with strikes that forced me onto the defensive. Her laughter, cold and mocking, echoed in my ears with every miss.
“You think a whore can best me?” She taunted, her metal whip glinting as it whipped past me, narrowly missing my shoulder. “I’ve been preparing for this moment since long before you were born.”
I could hear Roza and Zerek in the background, their battles intense. I wanted to check on them, but I couldn’t risk taking my eyes away from her.
Nyana’s strikes became more aggressive, pushing me back, her blade and whip whirling around in dizzying arcs. I parried a fierce strike from her, forcing her back. Our eyes locked, and at that moment, I saw surprise in those golden depths. But it was quickly replaced by rage. Her sneer never left her face, even as sweat beaded on her forehead. Her every move was cold, calculated, a testament to her decades of manipulation and control.
But for all my passion and determination, a momentary lapse was all it took.
A sudden shout from Zerek drew my gaze for just a fraction of a second. That distraction was all Nyana needed. Faster than I could react, she struck, her whip wrapping around my throat. She pulled, yanking me off my feet.
Gasping for breath, I tried to pull the whip free, but I couldn’t. The metal cut deep into the skin of my throat. Blood seeped through my fingers, hot against my neck. The room spun, and Nyana’s triumphant face loomed over mine. “You should never have come here,” she said, contempt dripping from every word as my vision tunneled.
Her blade shimmered above me, ready to land the killing blow.
But before the blade could find its mark, the barred doors to the war room exploded inward. Wood splintered, metal twisted, and through the dust and smoke, Theron appeared. His armor was battered, but his eyes blazed with fierce determination.
“No!” He roared. He moved faster than my eyes could track, throwing Nyana away from me.
The whip uncoiled from around my neck and I sucked in a breath, the darkness receding from my vision. He pulled me to his chest, holding me tight.
“It’s alright,Sihaya. You’re safe now.”
I sagged against him, my heart calming. Nyana sprinted toward the corner and I pointed at her.
“Theron. Look.” I croaked, my voice crackling as a hidden door opened and she slipped inside. Theron’s eyes widened, his face a mask of rage. He shook his head, obviously torn.
