Page 91 of Seasons of War
“The bond worker will devote himself to you and do whatever you need. You’ll make sure of it, because if you can’t handle him, you deserve whatever happens to you.”
“Whoa,” Miya said, her breathing fast, too fast. “I can’t go back. I—”
The captain nudged her against the wall, plastering his hands on either side of her head, leveling his face with hers. He was a python coiling around her body.
“You think you should fear your boss and handler because you’ve seen them kill a few people?” He cocked his head to the side. “You think that’s something to be frightened by?”
Miya held his stare, too scared to feel it. So scared her thoughts were insanely rational. This was it—the danger she’d wanted to avoid. It was real.
“I don’t simply kill.” The captain traced her chin. “I slaughter everyone my enemies ever loved.” His hand slipped down to her throat. “Do you want to be my enemy, Miya?”
An image of her father filled her mind, but others swept in. Brothers and sisters she hadn’t seen in over ten years. Shadows of children she’d never met. Spouses and entire families who would lay claim to an empty throne.
Tears flooded her eyes. How could she have been such a fool?
They'd kill the king and leave no one left alive to take his place. The Phaedra couldn’t get away with killing them without facing consequences from the rest of the world or the oceanic colonies. So, he'd use the king’s own people. An uprising led by Bale and waged by people like hers at Rafferty. The captain had created a back-channel to Bale through two people no one would care enough to notice: a bond worker and a prostitute. Miya and Lance were worthless in the eyes of the kingdom in every way.
This couldn't be real. There had to be an escape for her, her family, her kingdom. For Lance. The last decade and this moment, all of it, couldn't have really happened. If she wished hard enough, she could make it disappear.
Ha. Right.
Those thoughts never went away.
“Smart,” she whispered. A single tear broke free and burned a hot path down her cheek. “Leave no one left to seek revenge.” She'd never let him kill the entire family. Miya would stop him.
“You’re good at that.” He tapped her temple. “Getting into people’s heads… Can I tell you a secret?”
Her hand shook as she clutched the one over her throat. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to do this. I like you.”
His hand clamped down and closed her airway before she gasped in her final breath.
“Never question me,” he said.
She was terrified. She knew it but couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel a thing except stabbing pain in her throat and burning in her lungs. With her body and mind succumbing to the pressure, a primal drive in Miya stayed alive, and the rest went dormant.
She slammed her forearm against the inside of his elbow, but he only squeezed harder.
She counted time to keep her focus. Three seconds.
Reaching for his pinky with both hands, her fingertips just brushed him when the captain wrenched her right arm, ripped her forward, and threw her against the wall. Her knees gave in. Black spots popped over her vision.
Six seconds.
Her world spun. He dragged her closer, forcing her onto her toes. Miya kicked at his legs. The pressure on her throat intensified.
Stop. She had to stop. Fighting back could kill her.
Ten seconds.
She saw herself reflected in his pupils. Warped and small.
Eleven.
Calm eased her rigid muscles and soothed her rapid thoughts.
Twelve…
