"Killing Harriet and winning the damn bloody tournament is already hard enough!" she spat, voice shaking with emotion. "You don't have to shove it in my face and make it—"
She stopped.
Zyren had stepped closer again.
So close their faces were now only inches apart. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. Her heart leapt into her throat as her back stiffened.
And then he spoke.
His voice was low. Unhurried.
"What if I told you I could give you some sort of power?"
Aria's breath caught.
Silence fell again, but this time it was far more suffocating.
She stared at him, her throat tight. Her eyes scanned his face, searching for a smirk or some sign that he was joking.
But there was none.
His expression hadn't changed at all. He looked completely calm.
Honest.
The kind of honesty that chilled her to the bone.
He meant it.
He wasn't teasing.
He wasn't playing.
He was offering her something.
