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

“My coven feigned outrage, of course. It’s not worth recounting.”

Fair enough. “You should get some sleep. You must be exhausted from healing Holstrom.”

“Not at all.” Her gaze again lifted to his face. “But you … you should go. Another few minutes and suspicions will be raised.”

“Oh?” He couldn’t resist teasing. “Like what?”

She flushed again. “Like we’re doing things we shouldn’t.”

“Sounds naughty.”

She playfully shoved him toward the door. He let her, walking backward as he said, “I’ll see you soon, okay? You have my number.”

Her eyes shone like stars. “Thank you for checking on me.”

“Anything for you, Pax.” Tharion shut the door behind him and found himself face-to-face with three witches. All members of her coven, if his memory of the Summit served him. All cold-faced and unamused. “Ladies,” he said, inclining his head.

None of them answered, and as they converged on the queen’s suite with a knock on her door, he suppressed the instinct to return to her side.

But it wasn’t his place, and he still had one more task tonight. First, though, he needed a dip in the Istros to make sure his fins stayed intact.

Thirty minutes later, still wet, Tharion walked up to the peeling front door of the near-collapsing house off Archer Street, music blasting from the windows despite the late hour. Tharion knocked, loudly enough to be heard over the bass.

A moment later, the door opened. Tharion smiled crookedly at Ruhn, and waved to Tristan Flynn and Declan Emmett standing in the foyer behind him. “Got space for one more roommate?”





57

Hunt waited until he and Bryce had entered the apartment, the door firmly shut behind them, before he said, “I’m a prince now?”

Bryce slumped onto the couch. “Welcome to the club.”

“Your father really did this?”

She nodded glumly. “My mom is going to freak.”

Hunt stalked to the couch. “What about you, Bryce? Your mom can deal with it. I can deal with this, believe it or not. But … are you okay?”

She only stroked Syrinx’s coat.

He scented salt and water, then, and sat on the new coffee table, lifting her chin between his thumb and forefinger to find tears running down her cheeks. Ones he had no doubt she’d been holding back for hours.

He’d turn the Autumn King into smoldering carrion for putting those tears, the fear and panic and sorrow, in her eyes.

“I spent my whole life avoiding this. And I just feel …” She wiped angrily at her face. “I feel so fucking stupid for having walked into his net.”

“You shouldn’t. He bent the rules to his will. He’s a snake.”

“He’s a snake and now technically, legally, my king.” She choked on a sob. “I will never have a normal life again. I’ll never be free of him, and—”

Hunt gathered her into his arms, moving to the couch and pulling her into his lap. “We’ll fight him on this. You want a normal life, a life with me—we’ll make it happen. You’re not alone. We’ll fight him together.”

She buried her face against his chest, tears splashing onto the black armor of his battle-suit. He stroked her silken hair, letting the smooth strands slide through his fingers.

“I could handle the Starborn shit. I could handle the magic,” she said, voice muffled against his chest. “But this … I can’t fucking handle this.” She lifted her head, dread and panic flooding her expression. “He owns me. I’m chattel to him. If he wanted me to marry Cormac tonight, he could sign the marriage documents without even my presence. If I wanted a divorce, he’d be the one to grant it, not that he would. I’m a commodity—either I belong to him, or I belong to Cormac. He can do whatever he wants, and no amount of bravado from me can stop it.”

Lightening skittered down his wings. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“And what will that do, beyond get you executed?”

He leaned his brow against hers. “We’ll think of a way out of this.”

“Hypaxia said only the Asteri could override him. Considering our status with them, I doubt they’ll help.”

Hunt blew out a long breath. Tightened his arms around his mate. He’d slaughter anyone who tried to take her from him. King, prince, Fae, or Asteri. He’d fucking kill—

“Hunt.”

He blinked.

“Your eyes went all … rage-dazey.” She sniffled.

“Sorry.” The last thing she needed right now was to have to handle his fury, too. He kissed her cheek, her temple, her neck.

She rested her brow on his shoulder, shuddering. Syrinx whimpered from where he had cuddled up on her other side.

For long minutes, Hunt and Bryce sat there. Hunt savored every place his body touched hers, the warmth and scent of her. Racked his mind for anything he might do, any path out of this.

Her fingers curled against the nape of his neck. He loosened his grip, pulling back to scan her face.

Starlight and fire sparked there. “Tell me that look means you came up with some brilliant yet painless way out of this,” he said.

She kissed him softly. “You’re not going to like it.”