Warlord’s Plaything

I was never supposed to survive.

Gladiators are entertainment.

Temporary entertainment.

But somehow after every fight Im left standing.

And Lord Xyron has noticed.

He watches me from the noble’s box, golden eyes sharp, unreadable.

Not with disgust. Not with cruelty.

With something far more dangerous.

Curiosity.

He wants to understand me.

Wants to unravel me.

Wants to travel every inch of my skin…

And the more this goes on, the more I want to let him.

But how do I win when the one man I should fear is the only one who sees me?