Page 116 of On Brutal Thrones

We always have.

Families stay together. Clans protect their own. When the rest of the world is determined to crush you, loyalty stops being a nice quality and becomes the thing that keeps you alive.

And these three are mine now.

My family.

Nyx might be the sun we're all orbiting, but Thorian and Talon are part of it too. We already promised one another a future. As far as I'm concerned, that promise means more than any reward Valtor could put in front of me.

“Of course not,” Nyx says softly. Then, strangely, she laughs. “He also seems to think Thorian has been entering the Trials because he wants to impress him.”

I stare at her.

Talon huffs. “Clearly he understands his son incredibly well.”

A laugh almost escapes me despite everything.

Almost.

“If he thinks that we would ever actually accept his offer...” Talon starts.

“You should.”

Everything inside me stops.

I turn toward Thorian. For a moment, I genuinely think I misheard him. Nyx's mouth hangs open. Talon's eyebrow rises so high it's threatening to leave his face entirely.

I just stare.

“What?” Nyx whispers.

Thorian doesn't flinch. “You should take the deal.”

“No.”

The word comes out of me immediately. I’m not angry. Not yet. Just completely certain.

Thorian looks at me.

“We win together,” I say slowly, because apparently this needs explaining, “or we don't win.”

His expression hardens. “Fenric.”

“No. I heard you. I'm just waiting for you to realize what an incredibly stupid thing you said.”

Talon makes a small sound beside Nyx that might be agreement.

Thorian ignores him. “If you take the deal, you win. We've made it this far with Valtor actively working against us. With Soryn's favor and Valtor secretly ensuring your success, the three of you would be guaranteed to reach the Spire first.”

The three of you. Like there aren't four of us. Like he can just subtract himself from this family and expect the rest of us to nod.

My anger finally arrives, hot enough that my hands begin to tremble. “You're serious.”

Thorian looks at the ground.

Hell. He is.

I stare at him, and beneath my anger something else twists painfully in my chest. How can he possibly think we'd do that to him? After everything we've been through, how can he believe we'd walk away because Valtor dangled prizes in front of us?