Aiden stood within it, shoulders squared, lungs dragging air like molten iron. He could feel the Duke's presence the way a man feels the weight of a mountain—not because the mountain moves, but because it could, and if it did, nothing would remain in its path.
"Indeed, my lord," Aiden said at last. His voice did not falter, though the fire in his chest tried to claw upward, tried to burn through his restraint. Each word left his lips like a coin cast into a wishing well. "I am useful… but I am useful with a price."
The sound of his declaration rang in the chamber, struck like a hammer on an anvil.
The Duke's head turned sharply, the thick muscles in his neck shifting like coiled ropes. His golden eyes narrowed to slits, catching the torchlight like molten coins. Predatory. Measuring. Hungry. He stared at Aiden with the unblinking focus of a hawk spotting movement in the brush, daring him to twitch, daring him to show weakness.
