Elara had risen through the ranks of the royal guard by breaking prisoners and enemies alike, her reputation as unyielding and insatiable preceding her.The prisoner chained to the wall was a new acquisition. Jax Harlan, a rugged rebel fighter captured during the border skirmish. He was in his late twenties, broad-shouldered and muscled from years of hard labor and combat, with tousled dark hair, a stubbled jaw, and stormy blue eyes that defied her even now. His shirt had been torn away during capture, revealing a chiseled chest marked with fresh bruises and old scars. Iron manacles bound his wrists above his head, forcing his arms to stretch, while his ankles were shackled to the floor, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. He glared at her, his jaw clenched, but Elara could see the flicker of heat in his gaze as it roamed over her body."So, rebel," she purred, circling him slowly, her boots echoing on the cold stone. "You've been causing quite the stir out there. But here, in my car
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