Rastaban cast a wild glance at the figures on the perimeters of the camp and saw them standing tall, bearing torches, armed - only they stood perfectly still, and they wore armor he didn’t recognize. Fury and helplessness curled in his veins. Had she killed more of his men?
“Terms, General.” The blade at his throat pressed down harder.
“And if I refuse to give any?”
“Then you and half of your army will be dead before the other half can wake.”
Rastaban stared down at that pretty face and marveled at her words. She was crueler than even a man.
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