Page 115 of On Brutal Thrones

Ever since we promised to build a life together after this, I’ve wanted to get her out of the Trials even more desperately. I want her safe. I want her home. I want to feed her until the sharp edges that have appeared on her body soften again.

I’ve always been partial to a woman with some softness to her, and Nyx is already the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. Once I get her home, properly fed, rested, and happy, I’m going to be absolutely useless around her.

Nyx clears her throat, dragging me away from thoughts that are probably inappropriate considering the expression on her face.

“There was someone down by the river.” She looks directly at Thorian. “Your father.”

Every pleasant thought disappears.

“He ambushed you while you were bathing?”

Talon stiffens beside her.

We’re all thinking the same thing. Valtor has a history of taking whatever he wants, including women. My beast stirs beneath my skin, hot and restless, and I curl my fingers into my palms.

I don't look at Thorian.

Frankly, I'm impressed he's still sitting down.

“No.” Nyx clears her throat, cheeks turning pink. “I was mostly dressed when he appeared. He just...talked at me, mostly.”

“Talked at you?” Thorian says flatly.

Something tells me he has plenty of experience with that.

Nyx shifts beside Talon, gaze darting from one of us to another before slipping away. Talon notices too. He takes her hand, folding his fingers around hers.

“Go on,” he says quietly. “You can tell us.”

Nyx looks toward the sky and draws a deep breath.

“He said if I made a new team with Talon and Fenric, without Thorian, he would ensure we won.”

For a second, I don't understand the words.

Then I shoot to my feet so fast I nearly kick dinner into the fire.

“What?”

Nyx winces.

“I thought the gods weren’t supposed to interfere with the Trials. What in the hell is this?” I ask.

Talon gives a bitter laugh. “Yeah, because the gods have been so concerned with following their own rules this whole time.”

“We’d never even consider that.” Anger burns through me so quickly my beast presses closer to the surface. “Valtor is a fucking idiot if he thinks we would.”

Talon glances toward the sky.

I don’t.

Let Valtor hear me.

The offer itself feels insulting. Valtor apparently looked at us and decided we were the kind of people who could be bought with someone else's life.

Berserkers don't have much. We aren't rich. We aren't respected. A good portion of the world has spent generations enslaving us, indenturing us, or finding new and exciting ways to make sure we stay beneath everyone else.

But we have each other.