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

Maybe she’d fucked up by not telling him, not trusting him. She regretted that the Viper Queen had killed those people, but she’d be damned if she felt bad about how things had ended up …

Hunt turned his head, kissing her palm. “I still don’t understand how you pieced it all together. Not just Sofie lying about Emile’s powers, but how you knew the Viper Queen would be able to find him.”

“She’s got an arsenal of spies and trackers—I figured she was one of the few people in this city who could do it. Especially if she was motivated enough by the idea that Emile had powers that could be useful to her. And especially when his trail was picked up in the marshes.”

He shook his head. “Why?”

“She’s a queen of snakes—and reptiles. I know she can communicate with them on some freaky psychic level. And guess what the marshes are full of?”

Hunt swallowed hard. “Sobeks?”

Bryce nodded.

He hooked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Kissed its pointy tip. Forgiveness that she hadn’t realized she needed filled the gesture.

Hunt asked softly, “What about the others? Are you going to tell them?”

She slowly shook her head. “No. You and Fury and Juniper are the only ones who will ever know.” Not even Ruhn.

“And your parents.”

“I meant the other people in this city, currently doing shady shit.”

He kissed her temple. “I can’t believe your mom didn’t freak out and drag you home.”

“Oh, she wanted to. I think Randall had to stage an intervention.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but … why Nidaros?”

“It’s the safest and best place I can think of. He’ll be protected there. Hidden. The local sun-priest owes Randall a favor and is having all the relevant documents forged. My parents … They weren’t able to have a kid of their own. I mean, other than me. So even though my mom was freaked as fuck about the whole rebel thing, she’s already gone crazy decorating a room for Emile.”

“Emile-who-is-not-Emile anymore.” His smile lit something iridescent in her chest.

“Yeah,” she said, unable to stop her answering smile. “Cooper Silago. My half brother.”

He studied her, though. “How’d you manage to communicate about it?” There was no way she or her parents would have ever risked discussing this over email or phone.

She smiled slightly. “Postcards.”

Hunt choked on a laugh. “That was all a lie?”

“No. I mean, my mom sent me the postcard after our fight, but when I wrote back, I used a code that Randall taught me in case of … emergencies.”

“The joys of a warrior for a parent.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. So we’ve been swapping postcards about this for the past two weeks. To anyone else, it would have seemed like we were talking about sports and the weather and my mom’s weird baby sculptures. But that’s why Emile stayed at the Viper Queen’s for so long. Sending postcards back and forth isn’t the fastest method of communication.”

“But it’s one of the more brilliant ones.” Hunt kissed her brow, wings curling around them. “I love you. You’re crazy and shady as all Hel, but I love you. I love that you did this for that kid.”

Her smile widened. “Glad to impress, Athalar.”

His hands began drifting down her sides, thumbs stroking over her ribs. “I’ve been aching for you all day. Aching to show you how sorry I am—and how much I fucking love you.”

“All is forgiven.” She grabbed one of his hands, dragging it down her front, along her thigh—and up under her dress. “I’ve been wet for hours,” she whispered as his fingers brushed her soaked underwear.

He growled, teeth grazing her shoulder. “All this, just for me?”

“Always for you.” Bryce turned again and rubbed her ass against him, feeling the hard, proud length of his cock jutting against her.

Hunt hissed, and his fingers slipped beneath her underwear, circling her clit. “You want me to fuck you right here, Quinlan?”

Her toes curled in her heels. She curved back against him, and his other hand went up to her breast, sliding beneath her neckline to cup the aching flesh beneath. “Yes. Right now.”

He nipped at her ear, drawing a gasp as his fingers slid down to her entrance, dipping in. “Say please,” he breathed.

She arched, moaning softly, and he hushed her. “Please,” she gasped.

She trembled with anticipation at the click of his belt buckle, the zip of his pants. Shivered as he set her hands upon the nearest shelf and gently bent her over. Then slid her dress up her thighs. Exposed her ass to the cool air.

“Gods-damn,” Hunt breathed, running his hands over her rear. Bryce writhed.

He hooked his fingers in her underwear, sliding the lace down her thighs, letting them fall between her ankles. She stepped out of them, spreading her legs wide in invitation. But Hunt dropped to his knees behind her, and before Bryce could inhale, his tongue was at her sex, lapping and dipping inside.

She moaned again, and he gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he feasted on her. His wings brushed her ass, her hips as he leaned forward, tasting and suckling, and—

“I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” she rasped.