House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City #3) by Sarah J. Maas

Thankfully, she’d found three new employees to help her manage the unwieldy collection. Sasa, Rithi, and Malana currently perched on a takeout container, watching an episode of Veiled Love on Hunt’s phone where he’d propped it up against his water bottle.

They’d never replace Lehabah, but it filled something in her heart to see them. To hear Syrinx, snoring beneath her new desk, in the little nest of blankets he’d made down there. Like something had finally slid into place. Like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

“So,” Hunt said, going back to unloading all the crates Hypaxia had sent over from the House of Flame and Shadow. Apparently, Jesiba had been anticipating this transfer of ownership—she’d made Ithan pack most of the artifacts up.

Bryce thought Jesiba would appreciate the Godslayer Rifle now mounted behind Bryce’s desk. As much a warning to anyone who might try to steal the books as in honor of the priestess who’d guarded them for so long. That is, if the fire sprites didn’t roast any would-be thief.

She didn’t know where Irithys had gone, and she still wished to talk to the queen, to tell her about Lehabah, but from what Sasa had said, it sounded as if the Sprite Queen was now traveling the world, intent on freeing every last one of her people. Especially those who might be held by owners averse to the new worldwide ban on slavery.

“So … what?” Bryce asked Hunt, sliding a tome onto the shelf.

“So … are you gonna talk about the whole no-more-Fae-monarchy thing?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Bryce said. “I sent out my decree. It’s over. No longer my problem.”

“Others might not see it that way.”

“That’s why, Athalar …,” she began, shelving another book that tried to wriggle out of her hands. She smacked it back over and shoved it onto the shelf. “That’s why we’re going to establish a Fae democracy. A senate, and all that crap. So the Fae can go complain to them about their problems.”

“A senate and all that crap, huh?” Hunt said. “Sounds real official.”

She turned toward him. “And what about you? How come you get to walk away from the 33rd and the angel stuff, but somehow I can’t bail on the Fae drama?”

“I didn’t make magic islands come flying out of the ocean and resurrect a whole territory.”

“Well, Avallen’s different,” she sniffed.

“You just don’t want to lose your new vacation home,” he teased, crossing the room toward her. She let him crowd her against the bookshelf, loving his size and strength and the wall of power that was pure Hunt.

“Maybe I don’t,” she said, not backing down an inch. “But until the Fae can show me that they’ll share Avallen with everyone, it’s mine.” She’d debated sending the Parthos books there, to the Avallen Archives, but she wanted them close. Wanted them accessible to everyone, not locked away on a remote island. “Or, at least, it’s my responsibility,” she amended.

“Yeah, well, Baxian’s dying to get off the island and back into civilization, so maybe look into hiring a caretaker.” Fury and June had already returned to Crescent City. There was only so much medieval living her friends could take, apparently. But Baxian had stuck it out.

She winced. The angel had been keeping the Fae in line since she and Hunt had left Avallen in his hands, taking good care of any and all refugees who made it there. Danika would have been proud. Bryce had made sure to tell the Helhound that—and about seeing his mate in the afterworld. He’d been silent enough during that call that she knew he was crying, but all he had said to Bryce was “Thank you.”

“Okay, okay,” Bryce said to Hunt. “Set up a democracy, find a new babysitter for Avallen, play Scary Asshole with you … Anything else for me to do? In addition to starting my new business?” She gestured to the soon-to-be-open gallery.

“How about hiring a sexy assistant?”

She didn’t miss the heat in his eyes. The spark.

She bit her lip. “Sexy assistant, huh? You cool with going from the Umbra Mortis to fetching my coffee?”

“If it comes with the perk of kinky office sex, I’m cool with anything,” Hunt growled, nipping at her ear.

“Oh, the position definitely comes with kinky office sex,” she purred.

She felt the hardness of him push into her hip before he said, low and wicked, “Sprites—go find somewhere else to be for a while.”

They grumbled, but zoomed out to the stairs, all blushing a bright pink. Syrinx dashed after them, yelping.

Bryce didn’t care where they went. Not as Hunt pressed his cock against her center, and she writhed. “Get on the desk,” he said, voice like gravel.

Her blood thrummed through her. “We’re already late for our meeting with Ruhn and the others at the Aux.”

“They can deal.” His voice was pure, unrelenting sex. Her knees wobbled.

But Bryce had only taken one step toward the desk when her phone rang. Baxian.

“Call back later,” Hunt said, coming to stand behind her. Sliding his hands up her thighs, bunching her skirt as he went. Yes—fuck yes.

Hunt’s phone rang. Baxian again.

“Maybe we should … answer,” Bryce said, though she almost didn’t, considering that Hunt had a fistful of her skirt in one hand and her bare ass palmed in his other—