Awake In His Arms

Yes, I was part of the Rebellion. Yes, I had a job to do. Yes, the information I had was extremely sensitive and can’t get into anyone else’s hands.

But here I was, caught in the heart of enemy territory, held hostage, and lying wide awake. But I wasn’t afraid of the torture they had promised me. Not afraid of the price I would pay on either side of the war if I revealed the plans and secrets I had discovered before I was captured.

I was inside the dorm-like military barracks of the most prestigious and infamous soldiers in the whole district. I was in the same room as the two tiger-human hybrids that had wrestled me to the ground and reported me to the Emperor. And I was in the same bed that the most famous soldier recorded in history slept on. And I still wasn’t afraid. Not even because of the fact that he was snoring quietly right next to me with a permanent smirkon his face, his burly striped arms wrapped around me, his claws resting lightly on my throat.

I didn’t swallow the cyanide pill in my pocket.

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