The hall goes silent.
Complete. Suffocating. Silence.
My cheeks burn—half fury, half shame at my body’s betrayal.
Vlorn doesn’t retaliate.
Doesn’t even look angry.
Instead, his mouth curves into a slow grin. All teeth and challenge and dark amusement.
He sits back in his throne and announces to the hall, voice carrying to every corner: “The human has teeth.”
Some warriors pound fists against the tables in approval. They respect defiance, even from prey.
Others scowl deeply, insulted that I dare refuse their lord so openly.
Three tables down, I spot a massive orc with bone ornaments woven into his hair and tusks sharpened to vicious points. He’s staring at me with open disgust and something darker. Calculation.
He leans toward the orc beside him—tall and lean with cold eyes—and mutters something that makes the other nod grimly.
A chill runs down my spine.
Enemies. Mark them.
Vlorn seems to feed on the chaos his words created. His eyes are bright with something that might be amusement or hunger or both.
He lets the noise rise for a moment, then silences it with a raised hand.
Then he leans close to me. Close enough that his breath stirs my hair. Close enough that I sense his heat down my entire side.
His voice drops to a rumble that only I can hear.
“Eat next time, or I’ll feed you myself in ways you won’t enjoy. Do you understand me?”
It’s a threat wrapped in dark promise.
I want to spit in his face. Want to tell him to go to hell.
But my voice catches in my throat because some traitorous part of my body responds to that low rumble. To the proximity. To the sheer force of will pressing down on me.
Before I can force words out, he sits back and speaks louder, dismissing me.
“Take her back to her chamber.”
The guards move forward immediately.
I stand on shaking legs, but I keep my chin high and let them escort me toward the doors.
I sense Vlorn’s eyes on my back the entire walk across the hall.
Burning. Assessing. Claiming.
The door locks behind me with a heavy click.
I’m alone again.
Finally.
