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

A few Fae gasped at the snub—Flynn’s parents among them. Flynn, the traitor, had claimed he had a headache to avoid coming tonight. From his parents’ pinched faces upon seeing Ruhn arrive without Flynn in tow, he knew his friend hadn’t told them. Too bad for all the eligible young ladies they’d no doubt lined up to woo their son tonight.

Ignoring the dismayed Fae, Bryce strode right up to the dais where the Archangels sat, bypassing the line of well-wishers. No one dared call her out for it. Athalar followed her and Cormac, and Ruhn noted his father’s stormy face and moved closer, too.

Bryce and Cormac bowed before the Archangels, Celestina’s brows high as she turned between Hunt and Cormac. Bryce said, “My congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” Ephraim answered, bored and eyeing the bar.

Cormac added, “Avallen extends its wishes and hopes for your happiness.”

It had been a relief to discover that Mordoc wouldn’t be attending the party tonight—wouldn’t be able to put faces to the scents he’d probably detected in the alley all those days ago. But the Hind was here. Ruhn had already warned his cousin to stay away from the female, no matter how his blood might howl for vengeance.

“And we extend our wishes to you, too,” Celestina said.

“Thank you,” Bryce said, smiling widely. “Prince Hunt and I plan to be quite happy.”

A gasp rippled through the room.

Bryce half turned toward Hunt and extended a hand. The angel walked to her, eyes dancing with wicked amusement. Cormac seemed caught between surprise and fury.

The room seemed to be spinning. Bryce wouldn’t dare. She wouldn’t fucking dare pull a stunt like this. Ruhn swallowed a laugh of pure shock.

“Prince?” Celestina asked.

Bryce looped her arm through Hunt’s, pressing close. “Hunt and I are mates.” A charming, brilliant smile. “That makes him my prince. Prince Cormac was good enough to escort me tonight, as we’ve become close friends this month.” She turned to the crowd. Immediately pinpointed the Autumn King, glaring white-faced at her. “I thought you told her, Father.”

Holy shit.

She’d played along with the rules so far to reach this point. A public declaration that she was with Hunt. That Hunt was a prince—a Prince of the Fae.

And their father, who hated public scenes … he could either risk calling his own daughter a liar—thus embarrassing himself—or play along.

The Autumn King said into the stunned crowd, “My apologies, Your Graces. My daughter’s union must have slipped my mind.” His eyes threatened Helfire as he glowered at Bryce. “I hope her excitement in announcing her union with Hunt Athalar is not interpreted as an attempt to upstage your joy tonight.”

“Oh, no,” Celestina said, covering her mouth with a hand to hide a smile. “I congratulate and bless you and Hunt Athalar, Bryce Quinlan.” It didn’t get more official than that.

Ephraim grunted and motioned to the nearest server for a drink. Taking that as her cue, Bryce bowed to them again, and pivoted Hunt toward the crowd. Cormac had the wits to follow, but left them near a pillar after a word to Bryce. He stalked for the Autumn King.

So Ruhn went up to them, and Bryce snorted. “Nice crown.”

He jerked his chin at her. “That’s all you have to say?”

She shrugged. “What?”

But she frowned over his shoulder. Right. There were a lot of people with Vanir hearing listening. He’d yell at her later.

Though … he didn’t really need to yell at all. She’d found her way out of this clusterfuck. Her own brilliant, daring way. “I’m really glad you’re my sister,” Ruhn said.

Bryce smiled so broadly it showed all her teeth.

Ruhn shook off his shock and said to Athalar, “Sweet tux.” He added, just to be a dick, “Your Highness.”

Athalar pulled at his collar. “No wonder you got all those piercings, if this is how you’re expected to dress at these things.”

“First rule of being a prince,” Ruhn said, grinning. “Rebel where you can.” Considering what they were all doing these days, it was the understatement of the year.

Hunt growled, but Ephraim and Celestina stood from their thrones at the rear of the conservatory, a massive screen dropping from a panel in the glass ceiling. A projector began to hum.

“Friends.” Celestina’s clear voice rang out over the crowd. Anyone still speaking shut the fuck up. “We thank you for coming to celebrate our union this lovely evening.”

Ephraim’s deep voice boomed, “It is with much joy that Celestina and I announce our mating.” He smiled faintly at his gorgeous mate. “And with much joy that we remotely welcome our guests of honor.”

The lights dimmed, leaving only soft candlelight that made the decorative skulls all the more menacing. Then the screen flickered on, revealing seven thrones. A sight more harrowing than any skull or scythe.

Six of the thrones were full. The seventh had been left vacant, as always—thanks to the Prince of the Pit.

A chill skittered up Ruhn’s arms as the Asteri coldly surveyed the party.





59

Bryce couldn’t get a breath down.

The Asteri stared at them all like they could see through the screen. See them gathered here.