Yes.
It does.
I shift my weight slightly, testing the grip on my arm.
No give.
“Let me guess,” I say, forcing a dry edge into my tone. “You think you’ve won something.”
“I don’t think,” he replies, straightening slowly. “I know.”
He takes a step closer, and I can smell it now—iron, sweat, something older underneath it that doesn’t fade.
“You’re useful,” he says.
“For what?” I ask.
His eyes flick briefly toward the direction the others ran.
“Leverage,” he says simply.
My stomach tightens.
Of course.
“You think they’ll trade for me,” I say.
“I know they will,” he replies.
I let out a short breath that almost turns into a laugh.
“You don’t know them,” I say, shaking my head slightly.
“No,” he agrees easily. “But I know him.”
That lands.
Harder than anything else he’s said.
I don’t let it show.
“You’re wrong,” I say.
“Am I?” he asks, watching me too closely.
“Yes.”
He studies me for a moment longer, then nods once, like he’s filed that away for later.
“We’ll see,” he says.
They don’t bindme right away.
They don’t need to.
Not with this many bodies, not with the way they position themselves just close enough to cut off any movement without touching me.
Krago walks beside me as they move, his pace unhurried, his hands clasped loosely behind his back like we’re taking a walk instead of?—
