Bryce stood with Baxian on the bank of a second river, surveying the path on its distant side, her star glowing dimly toward it. The river passageway was narrow enough that she would have to teleport them across. She kept her starlight blazing bright, the ghouls a whispering malice around them.
There had been nothing helpful in the carvings so far. Fae slaying dragons, Fae dancing in circles, Fae basking in their own glory. Nothing of use. All surface-level shit. Bryce ground her teeth.
“Danika was the same, you know,” Baxian said quietly so the others wouldn’t hear. “With the wolves. She hated what so many of them were, and wanted to understand how they had become that way.”
Bryce turned toward him, her starlight flaring a bit brighter as it illuminated the downward sweep of the river. It dimmed as she faced the Helhound fully. “The wolves are by and large way better than the Fae.”
“Maybe.” Baxian glanced to her. “But what of your brother? Or Flynn and Declan?” A nod to where Sathia, Tharion, and Hunt sat together. “What of her? Do you think they’re all a lost cause?”
“No,” Bryce admitted. Baxian waited. She let out a long breath. “And the Fae I met in the other world weren’t so bad, either. I might have even been friends with them if circumstances had been different.”
“So the Fae aren’t inherently bad.”
“Of course not,” Bryce hissed. “But most of the ones in this world—”
“You know every Fae on Midgard?”
“I can judge them by their collective actions,” Bryce snapped. “How they locked people out during the attack—”
“Yeah, that was fucked up. But until Holstrom defied orders, the wolves weren’t helping, either.”
“What’s your point?”
“That the right leader makes all the difference.”
Bryce recoiled at the words: the right leader. Baxian went on, “The Valbaran Fae might not be the most charitable people in our world, but think about who’s led them for the last five hundred years. And long before that. Same with the wolves. The Prime isn’t bad, but he’s only one decent guy in a string of brutal leaders. Danika was working to change that, and she was killed for it.”
“Rigelus told me they killed her to keep the information about their true nature contained,” Bryce said.
Baxian cut her a look. “And you believe everything Rigelus says? Besides, why can’t it be both? They wanted to keep their secrets to themselves, yes, but also to destroy the kernel of hope Danika offered. Not only to the wolves, but all of Midgard. That things could be different. Better.”
Bryce massaged her aching chest, the starlight unusually dim. “They definitely would have killed her for that, too.”
Baxian’s face tightened with pain. “Then make her death count for something, Bryce.”
He might as well have punched her in the face. “And what,” she demanded, “try to redeem the Fae? Get them some self-help books and make them sit in circles to talk about their feelings?”
His face was like stone. “If you think that would be effective, sure.”
Bryce glowered. But she loosed a long breath. “If we survive this shit with the Asteri, I’ll think about it.”
“They might go hand in hand,” he said.
“If you start spewing some bullshit about rallying a Fae army to take on the Asteri—”
“No. This isn’t some epic movie.” He cocked his head. “But if you think you could manage—”
Bryce, despite herself, laughed. “Sure. I’ll add it to my to-do list.”
Baxian smiled slightly. “I just wanted you to know that Danika was thinking about a lot of the same things.”
“I wish she’d talked to me about it.” Bryce sighed. “About a lot of stuff.”
“She wanted to,” he said gently. “And I think putting that Horn in your back was her way of perhaps … manipulating you onto a similar path.”
“Typical Danika.”
“She saw it in you—what you could mean for the Fae.” His voice grew unbearably sad. “She was good about seeing that kind of thing in people.”
Bryce touched his arm. “I’m glad she had you to talk to. I really am.”
He gave her a sorrowful smile. “I’m glad she had you, too. I couldn’t be there with her, couldn’t leave Sandriel, and I’m so fucking grateful that she had someone there who loved her unconditionally.”
Bryce’s throat closed up. She might have offered some platitude about them reuniting in the afterlife, but … the afterlife was a sham. And Danika’s soul was already gone.
“Guys,” Hunt said from where he and the others had risen to their feet. “We need to keep going.”
“Why?” Bryce asked, walking over. Her starlight dimmed, as if telling her she was headed in the wrong direction. I know, she told it silently.
“We shouldn’t linger, even with the Magical Starborn Princess watching over us,” Tharion said, winking. “I think it’s getting too tempting for the ghouls.” He jerked his head toward the writhing mass of shadows barely visible within the mists. Their hissing had risen to such a level that it reverberated against her bones.
“All right,” Bryce said, resisting the urge to plug her ears against the unholy din. “Let’s go.”
“That’s the first wise decision you’ve made,” drawled a deep male voice from the tunnel behind them.
And there was nowhere to run, nothing to do but stand and face the threat, as Morven stalked out of the mists. And behind him, flame simmering in his eyes, strode the Autumn King.
55
Hunt let his lightning gather at his fingers, let it wind through his hair as the two Fae Kings approached, one wreathed in flame, the other in shadow. The hissing of the ghouls, their stench, had veiled the kings’ approach. Unless Morven had willed the ghouls to make such a racket, so they could creep up this close without even Baxian’s hearing picking it up.
Hunt’s lightning was a spark of what he’d command without the halo, but it was enough to fry these fuckers—
The Autumn King only stared at Bryce, pure hatred twisting his face. “Did you think that closet could hold me?”
Hunt’s lightning sizzled around him, twining up his forearm. He was dimly aware of Tharion forming a plume of water straight from the river they’d been about to cross and aiming it at the kings. Of Baxian, sword out and snarling—
Seeming supremely unconcerned, Bryce said to her father, “I imprisoned Micah in a bathroom, so a closet seemed good enough for you. I have to admit that I’d hoped you’d stay in there a bit longer, though.”
Morven’s shadows thrashed around him like hounds straining at the leash. “You will return to my castle with us to face the consequences for treating your sovereign so outrageously.”
Bryce laughed. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”
Morven smiled, and his shadows stilled. “I think you will.”
Dark, scabby hands dragged Flynn and Declan out of the shadows. The males struggled, but the ghouls held them in check. Only the creatures’ hands were visible—the rest of their bodies remained hidden in the shadows, as if unable to stand being so close to Bryce’s starlight.
Sathia let out a low noise of shock. But Hunt demanded, “Where the fuck is Ruhn?”
“Occupied with wooing that traitorous bitch,” Morven said. “He didn’t even notice my nephews stealing these idiots away.”
Two voices said into Hunt’s mind, We’ll kill you and then breed your mate until she’s—
Starlight flared, silencing the voices but revealing the Murder Twins lurking behind the two kings. Steps away from Dec and Flynn, like the brothers commanded the ghouls to hold the males.
Bryce blazed, bright white against the blue and gold of the Autumn King’s flames, the impenetrable dark of Morven’s shadows. “What the fuck do you want?”
Flynn and Declan let out high, keening sounds. Though the ghouls’ hands hadn’t shifted, blood was trickling from her friends’ noses. Dripping onto the ground.
Seamus and Duncan smiled. Whatever those fucks were doing to Dec’s and Flynn’s minds—
“You treacherous little brat,” Morven spat at Bryce, shadows now at the ready once more. “Trying to win me over with your sire’s research. He would never have let you get your dirty hands on it if you hadn’t incapacitated him somehow. I went to investigate immediately.”
Hunt could only gape as Bryce feigned a yawn. “My mistake. I assumed you’d want a leg up on this asshole here.” She pointed with her thumb at the Autumn King. “But I didn’t bargain on you being too dumb to interpret what was in his notes without his help.”
Hunt had to stifle a chuckle, despite the danger they were in. Morven’s affronted look was a little too forced—Bryce had clearly hit home. The Autumn King shot him a nasty glare.
“Let them go,” Bryce said, “and then we’ll talk like adults.”
“They will be released when you have returned to my castle,” Morven said.
“Then kill them now, because I’m not going back with you.”
Flynn and Dec turned outraged eyes on her, but the ghouls held them firm. Morven said nothing. Even his shadows didn’t move. The Murder Twins just eyed Bryce, readying for a fight.
Bring it, fuckers, Hunt wanted to say. From the way the twins glared at him, he wondered if they’d picked up his thoughts.
Yet Bryce smiled mockingly at Morven. “But I know you won’t kill them. They’re too valuable as breeding assets. Which is what all this comes down to, right? Breeding.”
The Autumn King said coldly, even as red-hot flame simmered at his fingertips, “The Fae must retain our power and birthright. The royal bloodlines have been fading, turning watery and weak in your generation.”
“Cormac proved that with his spinelessness,” Morven bit out. “We must do everything we can to strengthen them.”
“Cormac was more of a warrior than you’ll ever be,” Tharion snapped, that plume of water narrowing to needle-like sharpness. It’d punch a hole through the face of whoever got in front of it.
“Too bad I’m married now,” Bryce mused. “And you guys don’t do divorce.”
Morven sneered. “Exceptions can be made for the sake of breeding.”
Hunt’s rage roared through him.
“All this breeding talk is awfully familiar,” Bryce said, yawning again. “And come to think of it, this whole Fae King versus Fae Queen thing seems like history repeating itself, too.” She scrunched up her features, pretending to think. “But you know …” She patted Truth-Teller’s hilt. “Some things might be different these days.” Hunt could have sworn the Starsword hummed faintly, as if in answer.
“You disgrace our people and history by bearing those blades,” Morven accused.
“Don’t forget that I also bear this,” Bryce said, and held up a hand. Light—pure, concentrated light—fizzed there.
“Oh, you believe mere light can best true darkness?” Morven seethed, shadows rising behind him in a black wave. They were deep, suffocating—lifeless.
Hunt gathered his lightning again, a chain twining around his wrist and forearm. One whip of it, and he’d fry the ghouls holding Dec and Flynn, freeing up two more allies in this fight—
But the Autumn King beheld that concentrated seed of light at Bryce’s finger. His flames banked. Any amusement or rage leached from his expression as he murmured to Morven, “Run.”
“Now that’s the first wise decision you’ve made,” Bryce mocked.
A beam of slicing, burning light shot from her hand toward the ceiling.
Then solid rock rained down upon them all.
Ruhn had just decided that he really should go see where his friends had disappeared to all day, and was about to do so after leaving the archives that night when he found himself walking back toward the bedrooms with Lidia.
“I know it’s an unusual situation,” she said when they reached his door, “but I liked working with you today.”
He halted, throat working before he managed to say, “Must be nice, to finally get to … be yourself. Out in the open.”
“It’s complicated,” she said quietly.
She shifted on her feet, like she wanted to say more but didn’t know how, so Ruhn decided to do her a favor and asked, “Wanna come in for a minute?” At her arched brow, he added, “Just to talk.”
Her lips curved, but she nodded. He opened his door, stepping aside to let her in. They found seats in the threadbare armchairs before the crackling fire, and for a moment, Lidia stared at the flames as if they were speaking to her.
Ruhn was about to offer her a drink when she said, “Everything in my life is complicated. All the relationships, real and faked … sometimes I can’t even tell them apart.” Her voice was soft—sad. And utterly exhausted.
Ruhn cleared his throat. “When you and I …” Fucked. “Slept together, you knew who I was. Beyond the code name, I mean.”
Her eyes found his, dancing with flame. “Yes.”
“Did it complicate things for you?”
She held his stare, her eyes as gold as the flames before them, and his heart thundered. “No. I was shocked, but it didn’t complicate anything.”
“Shocked?”
She gestured to him. “You’re … you.”
“And that’s … bad?”
She huffed a laugh, and it was so much like Day that he couldn’t get a breath down.
“You’re the defiant, partying prince. You have all those piercings and tattoos. I didn’t have you down for being a rebel.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t on my five-year plan, either.”
She laughed again, and the breathy sound went right to his cock, wrapping tight. Her voice had always done that. “Why risk it?”