Page 112 of On Brutal Thrones

His mouth twitches.

“And yet here you are.” He lets the gray water trickle between his fingers. “You’re much more interesting now.”

The way he says interesting makes nausea churn in my stomach.

“Beautiful too, when you aren’t glaring at me.”

“I’ll work on that.”

He laughs, and then his expression changes. “I’d like to make you an offer.”

That gets my attention.

“A what?”

“An offer.” He smiles generously, like he’s about to bestow the greatest gift anyone has ever received. “You’ve earned my notice, Lady Nocturne. Very few mortals can say that.”

Except, I’m not mortal.

My mother refused to bow to him, and he cursed our family for it. She never regretted her choice. I doubt I’ll feel regret by rejecting whatever asshole offer he’s about to make me too.

“What do you want?”

“Convince the berserker and vampire to form a team with you.”

I stare at him.

Valtor waits.

“Without Thorian,” he adds.

For a moment, I don’t understand.

Then I do.

My heartbeat stutters.

Valtor smiles.

“Leave my son behind, and I will ensure the three of you win the Trials.”

The world seems to tilt.

I stare at him, certain I misunderstood. “We’ll...”

“Win,” he supplies pleasantly. “No more wondering whether you’ll reach the Spire. No more worrying about whether the wizards will claim your sister. I will make certain your team reaches the end first. You, Fenric, and Talon will be champions.”

My mouth goes completely dry. Lyra. He’s offering me Lyra. Not a chance to save her. Not hope. A guarantee.

After everything I’ve endured, every moment of terror, every wound and every loss, he’s standing here telling me I can have the one thing I entered these Trials for.

All I have to do is betray Thorian.

Valtor watches my face with obvious satisfaction.

“I know loyalty is very important to you.” He says it as though describing an unfortunate character flaw. “And I’m sure you feel indebted to Thorian. He has helped you survive this long.”

Indebted. My stomach turns.