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

The rebels would claim the kill, sparing the Under-King any political fallout, but the creep would be satisfied that he’d played a role in slaughtering them, and receive whatever souls would wind up in his realm. A whole lot of them, if Pippa was on the move.

Bryce bristled, starlight shimmering from her. “And were you lying when you claimed you didn’t send the Reapers after me and Ruhn those weeks ago?”

“I spoke true then and I speak true now. I had no involvement in that. Why should I lie to you, when I have already revealed so much?”

“Keep playing these games, and you’ll make enemies of all of us,” Ruhn warned the king.

The Under-King faded into shadows. “Death is the only victor in war.” Then he was gone.

A bullet boomed against the metal door. Then another. Pippa was still shouting her vitriol.

“Any ideas?” Hunt asked. If the rebels had gorsian bullets, this would get messy very quickly. And bring a huge crowd to witness the disaster.

Bryce grabbed Hunt’s hand. Pushed it on her chest. “Level me up, Athalar.”

Ruhn jerked his chin toward Hypaxia. “Take her with you.”

The witch-queen glared at the Fae Prince in reproach, but Bryce shook her head, keeping her hand over Hunt’s. Her fingers tightened, the only sign of her nerves as she said, “I’ve never brought anyone along. I need all my focus right now.”

Good. At least she was being smart about this. Hunt held his mate’s gaze, letting her see his approval, his encouragement. He wouldn’t waste time asking what she planned. Bryce was brilliant enough to have something figured out. So Hunt let his lightning flow, setting it zinging through his hand and into her chest.

Her star began glowing beneath his fingers, as if in greedy anticipation. Another barrage of bullets clanged against the door.

His lightning flowed into her like a river, and he could have sworn he heard a beautiful sort of music between their souls as Bryce said, “We need reinforcements.”

Ruhn contained his panic as his sister, charged up with a spike of Athalar’s lightning, vanished into nothing.

An impact rocked the metal doors into the inner sanctum. Why hadn’t the Aux been summoned yet? He reached for his phone. If he called in help, there would be questions about why they’d even been here in the first place. He’d already tried Cormac, but the male had sent him to audiomail, and then messaged that he was talking to the King of Avallen. There was no way the prince would interrupt that call.

They were trapped.

He pivoted to Hypaxia, who was scanning the sanctum, searching for any hidden doors. “There has to be another exit,” she said, running her hands over the walls. “No temple ever has just one way in and out.”

“This one might,” Hunt grumbled.

Bryce reappeared, and Ruhn marked every detail of his panting sister. “Easy peasy,” Bryce declared, but her face was sweaty, her eyes dim with exhaustion. What the Hel had she gone off to do?

Another bang on the doors, and the metal dented.

“What the fuck was that?” Ruhn drew the Starsword.

“We need to get out of here now,” Bryce said, going to Hunt’s side. “We have time, but not much.”

“Then teleport us out.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do it—”

“You can,” Athalar said, absolutely certain. “You just teleported in and out. You’ve got this. Steady your breathing, block out the noise, and focus.”

Her throat bobbed. But she reached for Athalar’s hand.

Hunt took a step away. “Hypaxia first. Then Ruhn.”

“I might not have enough strength—”

“You do. Go.”

Wariness and apprehension flooded his sister’s face. But Bryce kissed Athalar’s cheek, then grabbed the witch by the arm. “Hold on. I’ve never taken anyone with me like this and it might be …” Her words cut off as they disappeared.

Thank the gods. Thank the gods Bryce had made it out again, with Hypaxia in tow.

Hunt held his breath.

Ruhn said, “You should go next. You’re her mate.”

“You’re her brother. And heir to the Fae throne.”

“So is she.”

Hunt blinked at the prince, but then Bryce was back, panting. “Oh gods, that fucking sucked.” She retched, and reached a hand for Ruhn. “Come on.”

“Rest,” her brother ordered, but the doors dented further inward. Another few blows and they’d be open. And if Bryce’s plan didn’t get them a little more time …

Bryce grabbed Ruhn’s arm and before her brother could object, they vanished. Alone, Hunt monitored the door, rallied his lightning. He could charge her up again, but she was clearly exhausted. Would it do any good?

The doors shuddered, and light cracked in as they peeled apart a few inches.

Hunt ducked behind the altar, away from the spray of bullets that followed, blindly aiming for whoever was within. “There!” Pippa shouted, and guns trained on him.

Where the fuck was Bryce—

The doors blew open, throwing three Lightfall soldiers to the ground.

Pollux stood between the doors, white wings luminescent with power, laughing to himself as he brought a clenched fist down upon the head of a female rebel sprawled before him. Bone and blood sprayed. Beyond him, in the courtyard, rebels fired at Mordoc and the dreadwolves. And out in the street, standing beneath a palm tree, away from the fray, Hunt could see the Hind, surveying the brawl.