Page 147 of On Brutal Thrones

My heart starts pounding again.

Soryn looks at Talon first. “Lord Talon.”

He goes still.

Her gaze shifts to Fenric. “Lord Fenric.”

Then Thorian. “Lord Thorian.”

Something about hearing the titles spoken aloud makes this feel real in a way nothing else has. We didn’t just survive. We won.

Soryn turns to me last, her expression softening. “And you, of course, already have a title, Lady Nyx.”

I swallow hard. Titles. Lands. Wealth. And now they belong to us.

“When you return to Nyx’s manor,” Soryn continues, “you’ll find riches beyond anything you’ve dreamed of. Gold and jewels… enough wealth that none of you should ever have reason to worry over coin again. Not you. Not your children. Not your children’s children.”

Talon’s eyebrows rise. “I could get used to that.”

Fenric laughs under his breath.

Soryn smiles. “You’ll also find maps waiting for you, outlining the lands that now belong to each of you. They are yours to govern, protect, squander, improve, or ignore entirely, should that be your preference.”

My head spins. More lands? Maybe even fertile lands?

Soryn lets us have the moment.

When I finally lower my hands, she’s still watching us with that same small smile.

“Those are your prizes,” she says. “Your titles. Your lands. Your wealth. And a titled lady… the sister you came here to save.”

My throat tightens all over again.

“And the curse that has haunted your lands and family… is gone. We thought that only fitting.” She gives a sharp nod to the other gods, like this was always part of the plan.

Then Soryn looks at Thorian. “There is, of course, one final reward.”

Valtor steps forward. Pride is still visible in his face. “Godhood.”

Thorian stares silently.

Valtor smiles. “Come, son. Take your place among us.”

Thorian looks at him, then at the gathered gods. Finally, his gaze comes to us. Me, Talon, and Fenric.

Something settles in his expression. “I’m honored by the offer.”

Valtor’s smile widens.

“But I must respectfully decline.”

The smile disappears. “What?”

Thorian doesn’t rise to the challenge in his father’s voice.

Smart.

“I don’t wish to become a god.”