House of Flame and Shadow: The INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLER third instalment in the Crescent City series
House of Flame and Shadow: Part 3 – Chapter 85

“Well, friends,” Bryce said to Hunt, to Declan and Flynn, to Ruhn and Lidia. They had all gathered in a nondescript white van—one of a fleet Ophion had kept stashed throughout Pangera should an agent on the run ever need an escape vehicle—on the edge of the Eternal City. And though Lidia was frantic with urgency to rescue her sons, this step was necessary. “Ready to change the world?”

Jesiba had just sent over the footage of Micah’s demise.

“Let’s burn this fucker down,” Flynn said, and Dec nodded, typing away on his laptop.

“We’re recording in thirty seconds,” Dec warned Bryce, and she looked to where Hunt sat next to her, so quiet, so thoughtful. Terrified, she realized.

He glanced up, bleak fear in his eyes as he said hoarsely, “The last time I took a stand like this, with the Fallen … it cost me everything.” He swallowed hard, but he kept his gaze on her. She could have sworn lightning sparked along his wings. “But this time I have Bryce Adelaide Quinlan at my side.”

She took his hand in hers, squeezing tightly. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” she whispered to him, and his eyes flickered in recognition. He’d said the same thing to her once—that day she’d had the kristallos venom removed from her leg.

He squeezed her hand back. “Let’s light it up.”

Declan signaled, and the red light on his laptop camera turned on.

Bryce stared into the camera’s lens and said, “I am Bryce Quinlan. Heir to the Starborn Fae, Queen of the Fae in Avallen and Valbara, but most importantly … the half-human daughter of Ember Quinlan and Randall Silago.”

Hunt barely seemed to be breathing as Bryce said, “This is my mate and husband, Hunt Athalar. And we’re here to show you …”

It hit her, right then—a wave of nerves.

Hunt sensed it and picked up her thread without missing a beat. “We’re here to show you that the Republic is not as all-powerful as you’ve been led to believe.” He lifted his chin. “Centuries ago, I led a legion—the Fallen—against the Archangels, against the Asteri. You know how it ended. That day on Mount Hermon, only one other group of Vanir came to our aid: the sprites. We all suffered for it, and those of us who survived are still punished to this day.” His throat worked, and Bryce had never loved him more as he continued, “But today we’re here to tell you that it’s worth it. Fighting back. That it’s possible to defy them and live. That their hierarchies, their rules … it’s all bullshit. And it’s time to put a stop to it.”

Bryce might have smiled had she not finally found the right words. “What happened in Asphodel Meadows was an atrocity. What happened to those innocent families …” She bared her teeth. “It must never be allowed to happen again. We, the people of Midgard, can never allow it to happen again.”

She looked the camera dead in its dark eye, looked at the world beyond. “The Asteri lie to you, all of you, every second of every single day. For the past fifteen thousand years, they’ve lied to us, enslaved us, and we haven’t even known the half of it. They use a parasite in the water to control and harvest our magic under the guise of the Drop. Because they need that magic—they need us, our power. Without the power from the people of Midgard, the Asteri are nothing.”

She squared her shoulders. Hunt’s pride was a warmth that practically seeped into her side, but he let her keep talking, let her take the lead as she said, “The Asteri don’t want you to know this. They have schemed and murdered to keep their secrets.” Danika’s face, the faces of the Pack of Devils, flashed before her eyes. It was for them that she spoke, for Lehabah, for all those in the Meadows. “We’ve been told we’re too weak, and they’re too powerful, for us to fight back. But that’s just another lie.”

Bryce continued, “So we’re here to show you that it can be done. I fought back, and I killed an Archangel who the Asteri used like a puppet to murder Danika Fendyr and the Pack of Devils. I fought back, and I won—I have the footage to prove it.”

And with a flick of a switch from Declan, the video played.

Bryce peered around the small, bare-bones room in the safe house near the northernmost section of wall around the Eternal City. “Lidia’s certain this is secure?”

Hunt, wings tucked in tight in the cramped space, nodded to the sliver of a bed. “Yeah. And I’m pretty sure all the five-star hotels would report our asses to the Asteri anyway.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Bryce grumbled, plopping onto the creaky, lumpy bed. More of a cot, really. “I mean, all of Ophion’s … dead.” She choked on the word. “Who’s to say this place hasn’t been compromised? Lidia’s not exactly in a calm state of mind. She might not be thinking clearly.”

“Dec and Flynn are on guard,” Hunt said, sitting down beside her with a groan. “I think we’re good to rest tonight.”

Bryce scrubbed at her face. “I’m not sure I can sleep, knowing that video’s going out soon.” And soon after that, Hel would begin its journey to the Eternal City. She could only pray the armies’ presence would remain unnoticed until the right moment. She’d taken steps to ensure that.

Hunt waggled his eyebrows at her. “Want to do something other than sleeping?”

Despite all that weighed on her, despite what awaited them the next day, Bryce smirked. “Oh?” She half reclined, leaning back on her elbows. The bed let out a wailing creaaak.

“Oof,” Bryce said, wincing. “If anyone has any doubt that we’re about to fuck each other’s brains out, this bed will clue them right in.”

Hunt’s mouth kicked up at a corner, but his eyes had darkened, going right to her mouth. “I’m down for some noisy sex.” He braced a hand on one side of her, bringing his lips within grazing distance of her own. “Might be our last night on—”

She put a hand over his mouth. “Don’t.” Her throat closed up. “Don’t say that.”

He pulled back, his own gaze unbearably tender. “We’re going to survive, Quinlan. All of us. I promise.”

She leaned forward, brushing her mouth against his. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow right now.”

It was his turn to say, “Oh?”

She traced her tongue over the seam of his lips, and he opened for her. She swept her tongue in, tasting the essence that was Hunt, her mate and husband—“I want to think about you,” she said, pulling back, grazing a hand over his pecs, his rock-hard stomach. “About you on top of me.”

He shuddered, head bowing. She kissed the place where his halo had been, where he’d freed himself from its grasp.

Her hand trailed lower, to his black jeans and the hardness already pushing against them. “I want to think about this,” she said, palming him, “inside of me.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, and pivoted them, laying her out flat beneath him. “I love you.”

She lifted her hand to cup his face, drawing his gaze to her own. “I love you more than anything in this world—or any other.”

He closed his eyes, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I thought you said no goodbyes.”

“It’s not a goodbye.” She ran her hands down the groove of his spine, his wings like velvet against her fingertips. “It’s the truth.”

His mouth found her neck, and his teeth grazed over her pulse. “You’re my best friend, you know that?” He pulled away, staring down at her, and she couldn’t stop her star from flaring with light. “I mean, you’re my mate and wife—fuck, that still sounds weird—but you’re my best friend, too. I never thought I’d have one of those.”

She ran her fingers over his strong jaw, his cheeks. “After Danika, I didn’t think …” Her eyes prickled, and she reached up to kiss him again. “You’re my best friend, too, Hunt. You saved me—literally, I guess, but also …” She tapped her heart, the glowing star. Another reference to this past spring, to all that had grown between them, the words spoken during what she’d thought had been her final phone call. “In here.”

He scanned her eyes, and there was so much love in her that she couldn’t stand it, so much love that it washed over any fear and dread of what tonight and tomorrow would bring. For the moment, it was just them—Bryce and Hunt. For the moment, it was only their souls, their bodies, and nothing else mattered.

Just Hunt. And Just Bryce.

So she kissed him again, and there was no more talking after that.

Hunt met her tongue stroke for stroke, and the weight of his body on hers was joy and comfort and home. Home—he was home. Her ability to teleport to him had only proved that. Home wasn’t a place or a thing, but him. Wherever Hunt was … that was where home was. She’d replace him across galaxies, if need be.

He tugged off her long-sleeved shirt, gently, lovingly. Bryce practically ripped his black shirt off his shoulders.

Hunt chuckled, rising up to unbuckle his belt, then unzipping his pants. “So impatient.”

She rubbed her thighs together, desperate for any friction. Especially as his impressive length sprang free, and—

“Commando?” Bryce said, choking.

Hunt smirked. “All the underwear they gave me on the Depth Charger was too small for this.” He palmed himself, pumping, and she groaned at the sight of the small bead of moisture at the tip of his cock. “Now let’s see what underwear you’re wearing, Quinlan,” he said, eyes dark with lust, and tugged down her leggings. She lifted her hips off the bed, coils screeching, and Hunt laughed at the sound.

But his laugh died in his throat as he beheld the cherry-red thong. “This is what they gave you on the Depth Charger?”

“Not the Depth Charger.” She grinned as he peeled off her leggings, exposing the tiny red lace thong. “I grabbed these from Morven’s castle—the guest rooms had whole unopened packs of them.”

Hunt’s booming laugh set her star glowing, and the breath whooshed out of her as he gripped her knees in either hand and spread her legs wide. “If that asshole wasn’t dead, I’d send him a thank-you note.”

Hunt pressed his mouth to the front of her underwear and huffed a hot breath.

“Damn, Quinlan,” he said against her, and she buried a hand in his silken hair. He slipped a finger around the front of her underwear, toying with her entrance. “Gods-damn.”

She clawed at her underwear, beyond words.

Hunt obliged her by removing the thong with cruel, brutal slowness. She growled, but he dangled the underwear on one finger before setting it aside. “I wouldn’t want to damage this precious thing.”

“I’m going to damage you if you don’t get in me right now,” she managed to say, opening her legs wider.

She nearly climaxed at the raw need, the ravenous hunger on Hunt’s face. Especially as he slowly, slowly lifted his gaze to hers, filled with pure lightning.

“Hunt,” she begged, and he lunged for her.

He gripped her hips, lifting her off the mattress, angling her precisely how he wanted as he slid into her in a long, smooth glide.

Bryce moaned at the size of him, filling every part of her, and she dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his ass, pinning him there for a moment. Luxuriating in the stretch of herself around him, the weight of his body against hers.

“How?” he panted against her hair. “How the fuck can it feel this good every time?”

Her fingers clenched harder, urging him to move. He withdrew almost to the tip, and plunged back in, hard enough that another moan slipped out of her.

“You like that?” He angled her hips again, his to play with. “You like my cock this deep in you?”

She couldn’t manage anything more than a nod. He rewarded her with another long stroke that had her seeing stars.

Those were … those were actual stars dancing around them, filling the room.

“Quinlan,” he breathed, eyes wide at the stars floating by. But she needed more friction, more pleasure. She palmed her breast, squeezing, rolling her hard nipple between her fingers.

“Fuck,” he exploded, and thrust into her again, so deep and strong that it pushed them up the bed. Another stroke, and then his lightning was sparking over his shoulders, across his wings, a band of it over his brow like a crown—

She lifted a glowing hand, and his lightning twined over her fingers, zapping her delicately.

He withdrew, and her moan of protest turned into one of pure pleasure as he flipped her onto her front and plunged into her again, the fit of his cock so tight in her that she could barely stand it.

Starlight poured out of her, and his lightning skittered over her spine, ecstasy in its wake.

“Hunt,” she cried, release hovering just over the horizon.

His fingers dug into her hips. “Come for me, Bryce.”

Release crashed into her, out of her, her starlight flaring, and the room was blindingly bright. Hunt pounded into her in sure, steady strokes, and his lightning was between her thighs, his lightning was in her very blood, and all that she was and he was blended into such light, such power—

His hoarse shout was the only warning before he spilled into her, and it sent her climaxing again, knowing how deeply he was seated in her, marking her.

His fingers slid to her clit, stroking her through the throes, amplifying it. She reared up against him, pressing back into his chest as his fingers circled and swirled, and nothing had ever felt so perfect as wave after wave of pleasure washed over and out of her.

And then the world stilled, the light fading, and they were kneeling on the bed, Bryce leaning fully back against Hunt, one of his hands resting between her legs, the other looped around her middle. He pressed kiss after kiss to the space between her neck and shoulder. “Bryce,” he murmured against her skin, his chest heaving into her spine. “Bryce.”

She slid a hand over his, holding him between her legs, as if she could freeze this moment, stop the next sunrise from coming.

He shuddered, kissing her again. “I can … Fuck, I can feel you. Like, in me.”

She twisted enough to peer up at his stunned, devastated face.

“It’s like that part of you that’s … Made, or whatever you called it,” he breathed. “It’s in me. Like this piece of you is nestled there.”

“Good,” she said, kissing his jaw. Inside her, his lightning lingered, fueling her up like a small sun. “No matter what happens tomorrow,” she said, breathing hard, “I’ll have this piece of you with me. Strengthening me.” She could almost summon it, that lightning. It flowed under her skin, so full of possibility that she had no idea how she’d sleep.

Hunt tugged her back against him, holding her tight as he brought them both down onto the creaky bed. “Sleep, Quinlan,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m with you no matter what.”