"Isn't that what you wanted?" Holino demanded softly, his golden eyes wide, dark, and completely unblinking as he hovered inches above the cold floor. "To see me lowered beneath you? To see me completely broken at your feet?"
A bitter, chilling curve touched Holino's lips as his knees hung suspended in mid-air, held back only by the crushing grip Beron had on his shoulder.
"When it comes to playing the weak one, Beron... I am the best at it," Holino whispered, his voice dangerously smooth, carrying not a single shred of hesitation or shame. "I don't mind bowing down. I don't mind crawling. I've done it the best half of my damn life."
Beron's eyes flashed with a sudden, violent storm. A visceral wave of disgust and anger crashed through him—not at the boy's obedience, but at how terrifyingly easy it was for Holino to degrade himself just to get what he wanted.
