The Loyal Spartan
The gold sword in his hand hummed with a restless, eager power, a low, resonant thrum that was a testament to his desire to strike, to kill, to destroy the man who dared to threaten me.
“You know who I am,” the commander said, his voice a low, mocking drawl that was a final, unforgiving provocation. “And you know I’m not bluffing. Drop the sword, and the satyr lives. Refuse, and I’ll snap her neck before you can take two steps.”
Hot Chapters