Warlock Ch 420. A Battlefield to Conquer
Damian stared after her for a second longer than he should've, his brain still trying to catch up with the chaos she kept dropping on him like live grenades.
Because yeah—of course the dragon general didn't just agree to help.
Conditions, remember?
And judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes when she turned back toward him, he hadn't even heard the worst part yet.
She sauntered back to the table, moving with that lethal, slow grace dragons seemed to breathe, and leaned casually against it, arms crossed.
"So," she said smoothly, "I'll help you tonight."
Damian exhaled a breath of relief he hadn't even realized he was holding.
"But," she continued, voice sharp as a blade sliding free of its sheath, "on one condition."
He tensed immediately, shoulders stiffening.
'Here it comes.'
"You have to sleep with me," Lysandra said, perfectly deadpan.
Damian blinked.
Then blinked again.
