Chapter 17: The Girl He Thought He Bought
Bryant said nothing for a long time.
The name sat between them like a ghost.
"Nyra," he repeated, voice low. "Nyra… Smith."
Her lips twitched, just slightly. "Didn't think I'd say it, did you?"
His stare turned lethal. "I didn't think you'd lie for this long."
"Lie?" she laughed, but there was no humor. "No one cared about my truth until it became dangerous."
He stepped forward.
She didn't move.
"You're the girl who disappeared ten years ago," he said. "The one whose mother was executed in the palace. The one branded cursed."
"Now you see why I wear the scar," she whispered.
"Why come here?" he demanded. "Why me?"
"Because you don't believe in love," she said. "And that makes you safe."
That line — that one line — hit.
Because he had told her that.
I don't believe in love.
But her using it? Turning it into a reason to trust him?
It made him furious.
"Was it Damon's plan?" he asked darkly.
"No."
"Then whose?"
"Mine."
Silence.
Deadly silence.
"You think I won't sell you back to them now?" he asked.
"I think you won't risk losing the only thing that makes you feel something."
The moment that followed was brutal.
Because he knew she was right.
Bryant turned away.
Ran a hand through his hair.
He wanted to threaten her. Restrain her. Strip her power away.
But all he could see was Nyra.
Not Evelyn the slave.
Not the scarred girl.
But the one name that had once made kings twitch.
"I should have you locked up," he muttered.
"But you won't."
"No," he agreed bitterly. "Because I want you too much."
He turned back.
Walked to her.
And then—
He dropped something at her feet.
A crest.
Carved from obsidian.
The Kings' mark.
"You're not a slave anymore," he said. "You're mine in name now. Officially."
Her eyes widened.
Not with joy.
With danger.
"You made me your duchess?"
"No," he said. "I made you untouchable."
[End of Chapter 17]