Page 93 of Savage Throne
To my surprise, more men took cautious steps back. A few on the right darted their eyes from me to each other, as if daring someone else to make the next move.
Okay. They’re scared so. . .I can use this because. . .honestly I have no idea how many bullets I have left.
My chest heaved as I stepped out from behind the crates.
The room swam with the smell of iron and death.
My legs threatened to give out, but I forced them to stay steady, to stand tall.
Show no fear. . .speak. . .uh. . .in a bold way and. . .be a monster. Illusion. Magic. Umm. . .that’s it.
I held out my guns to the side and sneered at them. “I have as many bullets as there are men in here!”
More men backed up.
Oh shit! That worked! Will I really be able to bullshit my way out of this?
Slowly, I swept my gaze across the room, meeting every pair of eyes that dared to look back. “Do you want todie?Or do you want toserve?”
A murmur passed through the group, the shuffling growing restless.
I took a step forward, and the room seemed to shrink back, like the men were shadows retreating from the light.
They’re scared. . .Thank you, Jesus.
I swallowed. “I understand that you loved Yan.”
I paused, watching the various reactions. Some of the men looked down, clenching their jaws while others remained stoic, their gazes hard and intense.
I continued, “And I know you may be angry. But Yan is dead, and. . .you’re alive. And that matters. It matters to your family, to all you love. Yan is dead.Theyare alive.”
A few men shifted uneasily.
The tension was thick enough to strangle.
“Serve me and you live.”
What the fuck does that even mean? Like. . .are they going to be living with me now? Or do they go back?
I swallowed. “If you pick me, understand this.”
What do I say? What do I fucking say?
Tension gathered in my shoulders. “I. . .will not take any disloyal people around me.”
Okay. That made sense.
I lifted one gun and pointed to the decapitated heads. “Do you see how I deal with disloyal people?”
The men looked.
Some faces paled, others hardened, but all were silent.
I could see the gears turning in their heads, weighing their options. Serve me, their enemy, or die here and now.
“I’m fuckingloco!”
Why did you say that in Spanish? Just stick to English.
