Page 30 of On Brutal Thrones

Thorian's jaw tightens. “That I have a weakness.”

Nyx goes still.

So do I.

“If he knows that I love her, that I love all of you...” Thorian trails off.

He doesn't need to finish.

I look down at Nyx, and suddenly the arms I have wrapped around her don't feel like enough.

For most of my life, I believed my people were cursed by the gods. Berserkers are valued for our strength when that strength is useful to someone else, feared when it isn't, and enslaved often enough that I grew up understanding exactly how little power we have over our own lives.

But what Thorian is describing is worse than a curse.

A curse is something you carry.

This would be a hunt.

Valtor wouldn't need to attack Thorian directly. He could go after Nyx. Talon. Me. My family, if I ever manage to free them. Anyone Thorian loves could become another weapon his father could use against him.

And there would be almost nothing we could do about it.

Here, Valtor has limits. These are the Eternal Trials, and other gods are watching. Soryn chose us as the team she believes will win, and whatever her reasons, I doubt she'd stand aside while Valtor simply wiped us from existence.

But once the Trials end?

The thought makes my stomach sink.

No audience. No competition. No other gods with a reason to care whether Valtor plays by the rules.

Just us.

Four people trying to build the future we were foolish enough to imagine last night against a god who has proven he'll hurt anyone to punish his son.

“Shit.”

It's all I can manage.

Thorian looks at me and gives one solemn nod.

For once, none of us has an answer.

I glance toward the Obsidian Spire in the distance. For days, that tower has represented the end. Reach it. Survive. Win. We’ve fought our way through every nightmare the gods put between us and that finish line because we believed whatever waited on the other side had to be better than this.

Now I’m not so sure. Because the closer we get to the end of the Trials, the clearer the truth becomes. Winning might not save us. It might only remove the rules that have been keeping Valtor from killing us.

5

Nyx

My hands are still shaking.

I curl them into fists as we walk, trying to hide it, but Fenric notices almost immediately. His gaze drops to my hands before moving to my face.

“You’re still shaking.”

“I’m fine.”