Page 141 of Savage Throne
Leo turned slowly toward him. “My games are what built this empire, Song. Don’t forget that.”
Song didn’t back down. “And they’ll be the death of you.”
“Perhaps.” Leo chuckled and turned back to me. “Shall we?”
I had no choice.
I forced my trembling legs to move and slipped my arm onto his.
The guns sat there on the bed, gleaming like fallen promises.
As Leo led me out of the tent, his chuckle echoed in my ears—low, cruel, and victorious.
“My smart little monster.” he murmured under his breath.
In that moment, I hated him more than I ever thought possible.
Chapter twenty-two
The Breaking Point
Lei
By daylight, the Sapphire Sanctum stood as a marvel—a jewel carved into the heart of Mount Utopia itself—but as night draped its shroud, it morphed into something otherworldly, like a vision conjured from myth and shadow, a place where power and beauty intertwined in a mesmerizing embrace.
Tonight, the pavilion stretched wide, its vast openness cradled by the mountain’s jagged edges, which loomed like a crown of gods piercing the star-sprinkled sky.
The air was crisp and sharp, mingling with the aroma of burning incense.
The pillars—each carved from lapis lazuli, sculpted and burnished to glimmering perfection—stood as silent sentinels reaching upward like towering giants. Their deep veins of cobalt, sapphire, and cerulean merged into complete artistry.
Silk banners in shades of blue—midnight, royal, and pale—fluttered gently on the wind.
The indigo chandeliers above us were masterpieces unto themselves—suspended high on silver poles that anchored their brilliance against the dark night. They were massive, intricate arrangements of crystals, hanging like sacred relics.
So flawless.
Below, the floor was a polished mosaic—thousands of azure tiles inlaid with veins of silver and turquoise.
My father had made sure the splendor of the pavilion was even more breathtaking tonight.
This was to be a feast for the senses that left no detail untouched.
Above the vast pavilion, the orchestra played. Their notes floated through the space with haunting precision and filled every corner.
All around, there were tables sprawled in endless rows, laden with an opulence that teetered on excess.
Each table had platters of lacquered roast duck with golden skins glistening like molten honey, sitting beside steaming baskets of dumplings.
Silver trays of whole fish lay poised with glistening scales.
Large bowls were full of noodles piled high and slicked with fragrant oils, while towers of sweet buns, sugar-dusted and gleaming, stood proudly next to them.
The wine flowed like rivers, poured by silent, blue-clad waiters wearing blue silk gloves, weaving between guests, and bearing trays of rare delicacies.
Yet, beneath the veneer of grandeur, danger slithered in every corner.
It clung to the edges of conversations, turned polite laughter brittle, and caused keen gazes to flicker toward the thrones looming at the far end of the hall. . .where I sat.
