Page 45 of The October Trials

The sad reality that Sloane betrayed me for a man who wouldn’t even lift a finger to save her settles in.

“Now,” Archon continues. “You may state your request.”

Sloane shifts in her seat. “I—I think Blair cheated. She came back disheveled, which has to mean she was caught. She deserves to be eliminated. It’s not fair to the rest of us who actually avoided the guards.”

My hands lock together under the table, shaking, as Archon studies her words, contemplating them. I twist the dial on my grandfather’s watch. Over and over. And fucking over.

I can’t die on a technicality. Not when I made it this far.

Archon waves a hand. “Killing her now would be far too boring. No, no. I want to see what happens when she breaks. It’s so much more delicious than a bullet.” His eyes slide to me, glittering. “Don’t you agree, Blair? Watching someone suffer is far better than simply killing them?”

I stare at my best friend across the table, and something inside me goes cold. Like a door closing somewhere deep in my chest, but I’m the only one who hears the click.

I’ve spent my whole life being the good one. The reliable one. The daughter who never became a burden, the friend who showed up at 3 a.m. without being asked twice.

Look where that’s gotten me.

So, I’ve made my choice. Whatever this game asks of me, no matter how savage, I’ll do it.

I already have blood on my hands from this house—I might as well learn how to wear it.

A wicked smile curls across my lips. “Oh, I agree.”

16

Blair

“Round five is now commencing.”

Archon rises from his throne, the candlelight carving deep shadows against his mask. “This round is simple. Would… You… Rather…”

I hate when he pauses for dramatic effect like that. Just get the hell on with it. We’re not in a damn horror movie.

“I will pose the question,” he continues. “You will choose. You will act on that choice immediately.” He stops behind Sloane’s chair, and she flinches. “And I do mean immediately.”

I breathe out. Round five. So, so close to the end I can almost taste it.

“Refusal calls for elimination, and I’m certain you know what that means. There are no negotiations. If you take too long to decide, I will make the choice for you.” Archon looks down at Sloane. “You first.”

She sits up straighter, her hands lightly trembling on the table.

“Would you rather… slap Dimitri or Blair?”

We’ve been through eating people, injecting poison syringes, and whatever else hell, and now he’s making her… slap someone?

Sloane’s nostrils flare. She doesn’t even hesitate, and I already know her answer. “Blair.”

Archon almost smiles at her answer. What game is he playing?

Her wild red hair sways as she stalks the length of the table and cracks her palm across my face.

The sting blooms on my cheek, but not as much as I was expecting.

“You slap like a bitch.” A laugh bubbles out of me.

Her face burns, and I swear you can almost see the red flashing across her features. I stare back head-on with a smirk.

“Delightful,” Archon murmurs. Then his attention shifts. “Dimitri. Would you rather carve your first initial into Sloane’s forearm with this knife—” he produces a blade from somewhere, placing it on the table, “—or break three of Blair’s fingers, one at a time?”