The Warlord Wants Forever Read Online Free PDF Page B

force.”

    “Torture? Ordered? Can’t disobey Kristoff for me?”

    “Myst, you know I’d be dead if not for him. My brothers and friends as wel. My life has not been my own since that night.”

    He was actualy serious about this. But then Myst hadn’t been kidding either when she’d said that torture realy pissed her off. She’d been giving Wroth preferential treatment because he was, like, a celebrity in martial circles, but now he’d taken a plunge into vampirism—and she needed to remember that. She’d push and cajole to the end but after that…Bring it, leech. Stil bubbly friendly, she said, “Wroth, you could help me escape—”

    “I swore my fealty and I’l see my order through. Answer or you’l face the consequences,” he said. “I’l begin with the most basic. What are you?”

    “Pussy Cat Dol?” she asked, immediately doing a slow headshake at his look. “Judge, jury and executioner.” He scowled. Her eyes lit up. “Transient! What? Realy. No?
    Babe in Toyland?”

    “Damn it, Myst, just answer the questions. Then you can come back up to my room.” He lowered his voice and curled his finger under her chin. “We can sleep together again as we did today—”

    “But you don’t understand that torture would be easier for me than to go back to the Lore as an informant.” She’d no longer be an A-lister, an “avoid at al costs” enemy.
    She’d lose her status as a creature with which one did not fuck.

    “My brother has tried to get information from the others—”

    “But they didn’t talk either, huh?” Did she sound smug?

    He seemed to shake himself, hardening his resolve. “You’re leaving me little choice.”

    Wel. She was about to experience first-hand the Overlord’s ruthlessness she’d admired, because apparently he’d decided she was an enemy just when she’d thought they were getting kinda cozy.

    Way to hurt my feelings, Wroth. She sniffled. Now I’l realy have to kil you.

    With his thoughts constantly on her throughout the night, he’d staled for hours, as much as he could, waiting til nearly dawn, ensuring it would at least be brief.

    “You’re realy going to do this?” she asked as she turned from him, moving into the back corner.

    Her shoulders were shaking, and he suspected she was laughing. When he crossed to her, taking her arm and turning her, he was shocked to find genuine tears streaming down her heartbreakingly beautiful face. “Wroth, I thought we had an arrangement.” She cast him a brows-drawn look of betrayal.

    She wasn’t feigning this. In her wild, mixed-up mind, she had thought they were…friends?

    The cel wobbled and he braced himself, frowning that she seemed not to notice. Just aftershocks from last night.

    He didn’t want her to hurt. But her eyes blazed with it, raw and true and bare. He was actualy seeing her—Myst with her false swagger and play peeled back. This was a facet of her, but it was finaly Myst, and suddenly he found it unbearable as each tear fel. He flinched when one dropped to her cheek, flinched as if he’d been hit. Another shake al around him.

    She turned from him and appeared to wipe her face. When she turned back, she was blatantly sexual, as though she’d donned a mask once more.

    “Myst, I don’t want to hurt you, but you must answer my questions. This isn’t a game.”

    She gave him a look of utter disbelief. “That’s exactly what this is. You want to know about the Lore? Learn this lesson wel—we are al pawns.”

    The castle shook around him, and while he glanced around wildly, she remained undaunted. No, it was not the outside shaking.

    The sound booming in his ears like an earthquake was coming from…within him. “What are you?” he demanded again.

    Her face never lost its expression of vague distaste even when her hand pressed gently against his chest—to feel his heart stutter then thunder to life. Because he’d finaly seen her and recognized her for what she