"WHAT ARE YOU willing to lose to keep her, little demon?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and jagged. Ysoria's gaze didn't flicker; she looked like a banker assessing a high-risk loan rather than a sorceress bartering for a soul.
Grayson took a step forward. The movement was sharp, almost twitchy, a remnant of the raw instinct currently overriding his human grace. He didn't look at Lucson for permission, nor did he look at Carson for a quip. He stared directly into those bottomless, matte-black eyes.
"Anything," Grayson said. The word didn't just vibrate in the room; it seemed to sink into the floorboards. "Name the price. Whatever it is. Just ensure Seryn is scrubbed from this world so completely she doesn't even remain a memory."
