House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City #2) by Sarah J. Maas

Tharion’s teeth flashed. But he didn’t attack.

Then the Hind met Ruhn’s stare, and all that he was diluted to pure, lethal rage.

He’d kill her, and do it gladly. If he could get on that wave skimmer before Tharion, he’d rip out her throat with his teeth.

“Two Fae Princes,” the Hind purred. “Crown Princes, no less. The future of the royal bloodlines.” She clicked her tongue. “Not to mention that one of them is a Starborn heir. What a scandal this shall be for the Fae. What shame this will bring.”

“What do you want?” Hunt challenged, lightning skittering over his shoulders. Bryce twisted toward him with alarm, and Ruhn tensed.

Athalar’s power glowed along the tops of his wings, twining in his hair. Each breath seemed to summon more of it, keeping it well above the waves’ reach. Readying for the strike.

“I already have what I want,” the Hind said coolly. “Proof of your treachery.”

Bryce’s light shimmered and built, rippling into the depths below. And Hunt … If he unleashed his power, he’d electrocute all of them.

Ruhn said to his sister, mind-to-mind, Get on that wave skimmer and run.

Fuck that. Bryce slammed her mind shut to him.

The Hind reached into her pocket, and the lightning above Athalar flared, a whip readying to strike whatever gun the deer shifter possessed. Still he didn’t give the signal.

But the Hind pulled out a small white stone. Held it up.

She smiled slightly at Cormac. “I showed one of these to Sofie Renast before she died, you know. Made this same demonstration.”

Died. The word seemed to clang across the water. The Hind had truly killed her, then.

Cormac spat, “I’m going to rip you to pieces.”

The Hind laughed softly. “From where I’m sitting, I don’t see much chance of that.” She extended her arm over the water. Her slim, manicured fingers splayed, and the stone plunged. It left barely a ripple on the waves as it fluttered down, down, down, shimmering white in Bryce’s light, and then vanishing into the deep.

“Long way to the bottom,” the Hind observed dryly. “I wonder if you’ll drown before you reach it.” The Omega-boat surged closer.

“Choose wisely,” the Hind crooned. “Come with me,” she said to Hunt, to Bryce, “or see what the seafloor has to offer you.”

“Get fucked,” Hunt seethed.

“Oh, I plan to, once this is done,” she said, smiling wickedly.

Hunt’s lightning flickered again. Glowed in his eyes. Shit—Athalar was walking a fine line of control.

Bryce murmured Hunt’s name in warning. Hunt ignored her, but Tharion cursed softly.

What is it? Ruhn asked the male, who didn’t look his way as Tharion replied, Something big. Gunning for us.

Not the Omega-boat?

No. It’s … What the fuck is it?

“Hurry now,” the Hind drawled. “Not much time.”

Lightning wrapped around Hunt’s head. Ruhn’s heart stalled a beat as it lingered—like a crown, making of Hunt an anointed, primal god. Willing to slaughter any in his path to save the female he loved. He’d fry every single one of them if it meant getting Bryce out alive.

Some intrinsic part of Ruhn trembled at it. Whispered that he should get far, far away and pray for mercy.

But Bryce didn’t balk from the knee-wobbling power surging around Athalar. Like she saw all of him and welcomed it into her heart.

Hunt, eyes nothing but pure lightning, nodded at Bryce. As if to say, Blind the bitch.

Bryce sucked in a breath, and began to glow.

Something solid and metal hit Bryce’s legs, her feet, and before she could fully release her light, she was hurled up with it. When the water washed away, she lay on the hull of an Omega-boat.

No—it wasn’t imperial. The insignia on it was of two entwined fishes.

Hunt lay beside her, wings dripping wet—lightning still crackling around him. His eyes …

Holy fuck, his eyes. Pure lightning filled them. No whites, no irises. Nothing but lightning.

It snapped around him, vines wreathing his arms, his brow. Bryce had the vague sense of the others behind them, but she kept her focus on Hunt.

“Hunt,” she gasped out. “Calm down.”

Hunt snarled toward the Hind. Lightning flowed like tongues of flame from his mouth. But the Hind had fallen back, revving her wave skimmer and retreating toward her line of boats. Like she knew what kind of death Hunt was about to unleash on her.

“Hunt,” Bryce said, but something metal clanked against the broad snout of the ship, and then a female voice was bellowing, “Down the hatch! Now!”

Bryce didn’t question their good luck. Didn’t care that the Hind had seen them, knew them, and they’d let the spy-breaker live. She hurtled to her feet, slipping on the metal, but Hunt was there, a hand under her elbow. His lightning danced up her arm, tickling, but not hurting. His eyes still blazed with power as they assessed the unknown female ahead, who—to her credit—didn’t run screaming.

Bryce glanced behind to find Ruhn helping Cormac along, Tharion at their backs, a wave of water now towering between him and the Hind. Hiding them from the view of the approaching speedboat, with Pollux and the Harpy on it.

It didn’t matter now. The Hind knew.

A dark-haired female waved to them from a hatch midway along the massive length of the ship—as large as an Omega-boat. Her brown skin gleamed with ocean spray, her narrow face set with grim calm as she gestured for them to hurry.