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

Rigelus went on, “And you didn’t even look that hard into the Reapers I sent from this city to nudge you. The Bone Quarter was a testing ground for your true power, you see—since you seemed to have little awareness or interest in it all summer. You were to hone your powers, all so we might put them to good use. You played along beautifully.”

Hunt’s fingers curled into fists. He should have seen it—should have pushed Bryce away from this mess, should have taken her at the first hint of trouble and gone to a place where no one could ever find them.

But this was Midgard. No matter where they went, no matter how far from Lunathion or the Eternal City, the Asteri would always find them.

Rigelus sighed dramatically at their stunned silence. “This all seems very familiar, doesn’t it? A Starborn queen who allied with a Prince of Hel. Who trusted him deeply, and ultimately paid the price.”

Hunt mastered himself enough to nod toward the seventh, always empty throne. “Hel got one on you in the end, though, I think.”

Rigelus’s body glowed with ire, but his voice remained silky smooth. “I look forward to facing Apollion again. Mordoc suspected that the Star-Eater had been trying to get your attention these past weeks—to prod you along in his own way.”

So one Prince of Hel had been a fake, the other true. Apollion really had sent the deathstalkers, presumably to test Bryce’s powers—just as Rigelus also wanted—and Hunt’s own. And wanted it so badly that he was willing to risk her death should she not be up to the task.

But she’d teleported that night. Used that ability to defeat the deathstalkers. Had started to grasp the gift and progressed in leaps and bounds since then. Literally.

Apollion must have known she’d need those skills. Perhaps for this very moment.

The gorsian chains on Bryce’s wrists were unlocked. If she could throw them off, she could get out. If the Hind could somehow get his own chains off, he’d block the Asteri and Bryce could keep running.

Hunt said, one last try, “You’re full of shit, and Mordoc should get his nose checked. We’re not rebels. Celestina can vouch for us.”

Rigelus laughed, and Hunt bristled. “Celestina? You mean the Archangel who reported to me that you’d lied about going to visit Miss Quinlan’s family a few weeks ago, and then reported to me immediately when she saw you leave the barracks heavily armed?” The words landed like a phantom punch to Hunt’s gut.

Love is a trap, Celestina had told him. Was this her way of protecting what she loved? Proving her trustworthiness to the Asteri by selling Hunt and his friends out so that they might react kindly if they learned about Hypaxia? Had she any idea the witch she loved was involved?

Rigelus seemed to read those questions on Hunt’s face, because he said, “She might have once been a friend of Shahar, Orion, but with so much personally on the line for her, she is no friend to you. At least, not when it comes to protecting those she cherishes most.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ruhn asked hoarsely.

Rigelus frowned with distaste. “It is a matter of survival.” A glance at Bryce. “Though her first task for us shall be one of … a personal matter, I think.”

“You’re going to attack Hel,” Hunt breathed. Was that what Apollion was anticipating? Why he’d kept telling them, again and again, that Hel’s armies were readying?

Not to attack this world, but to defend Hel itself. To ally with any who’d stand against the Asteri.

“No,” Rigelus said. “Even Hel is not at the top of our list of those from whom we shall exact vengeance.” Again, that smile at Bryce. “The star on your chest—do you know what it is?”

“Let’s assume I know nothing,” Bryce said grimly.

Rigelus inclined his head. “It’s a beacon to the world from which the Fae originally came. It sometimes glows when nearest the Fae who have undiluted bloodlines from that world. Prince Cormac, for example.”

“It glowed for Hunt,” Bryce shot back.

“It also glows for those who you choose as your loyal companions. Knights.”

“So what?” Bryce demanded.

“So that star will lead us back to that world. Through you. They overthrew our brethren who once ruled there—we have not forgotten. Our initial attempt at revenge was foiled by your ancestor who also bore that star on her chest. The Fae have still not atoned for the deaths of our brothers and sisters. Their home world was rich in magic. I crave more of it.”

Bryce shook, but Hunt’s heart cracked as she squared her shoulders. “My bargain holds. You let Hunt and Ruhn go freely and unharmed—forever—and I’ll help you.”

“Bryce,” Ruhn pleaded, but Hunt knew there was no arguing with her.

“Fine,” Rigelus said, and smiled, triumph on every line of his lanky body. “You may say goodbye, as a sign of my gratitude for your assistance.”

Bryce turned to Hunt, and the terror and pain and grief on her gore-splattered face threatened to bring him to his knees. He slipped his chained hands around her head, pulling her close. Whispered in her ear. Her fingers bunched in his shirt, as if in silent confirmation.

So Hunt pulled back. Stared into his mate’s beautiful face for the last time.

He laughed softly, a sound of wonder at odds with the crystal throne room and the monsters in it. “I love you. I wish I’d said it more. But I love you, Quinlan, and …” His throat closed up, his eyes stinging. His lips brushed her brow. “Our love is stronger than time, greater than any distance. Our love spans across stars and worlds. I will find you again. I promise.”