House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City, #2)

Bryce hated herself for lowering her gaze. Even as she knew Hunt stared Rigelus down.

But the Bright Hand of the Asteri said, “So many happy unions tonight. It is our wish that you all partake in the revelry. Go, and celebrate Death’s Day in peace.”

Everyone bowed again, and the screen went dark. More than a few people whimpered, as if they’d been holding in the sound.

No one spoke for several seconds as the lights brightened. Then the band began once more slightly off-tempo, like the musicians needed a minute to get their shit together. Even the Archangels were a little pale as they took their seats.

Bryce faced her father. The Autumn King said in a voice so low no one else could hear, “You little bitch.”

Bryce smiled broadly. “It’s ‘You little bitch, Your Highness.’ ” She stalked into the crowd. She didn’t miss Hunt smirking at the king, throwing him a wink that clearly said: Make a move and I’ll fry you, asswipe.

But she had to suck down a few long breaths as she halted at the edge of the dance floor, trying to regain her composure.

“You all right?” Hunt asked, gripping her shoulder.

“Yes, Your Highness,” she muttered.

He chuckled, and leaned to whisper in her ear, “I thought you only called me that in bed, Quinlan.” She did. You are my fucking prince, she’d panted last night as he drove his cock up into her.

Bryce leaned against him, shaking off the last of the Asteri’s ice. “I can’t believe we did it.”

Hunt let out a low laugh. “There’s going to be Hel to pay.” From her father. But tonight, he could do nothing. Here, in front of all these people, he could do nothing at all.

So Bryce said, “Dance with me?”

He raised a brow. “Really?”

“You do know how to dance, right?”

“Of course I do. But … It’s been a long while since I’ve danced with anyone.”

Since Shahar, probably. She interlaced their fingers. “Dance with me.”

The initial steps were stilted, hesitant. His arm slid around her waist, his other hand clutching hers as he led her into the sweet ballad coming from the band. With so many watching, it took a verse or two to get their rhythm.

Hunt murmured, “Just look at me, and fuck all the rest of them.”

His eyes shone with desire and joy, and that spark that was pure Hunt. The star on her chest gleamed, on full display. Someone gasped, but Bryce kept her attention on Hunt. He smiled again.

It was all that mattered, that smile. They fell into easy movement, and when Hunt spun her, she smiled back.

She whipped into his arms, and Hunt didn’t falter a step, sweeping her around the floor. She had the vague sense of Ruhn and Hypaxia dancing, Celestina and Ephraim, too, of Baxian and Naomi—Isaiah now with them—on guard by the doors, but she couldn’t look away from Hunt.

He pressed a kiss to her mouth. The entire universe melted away with it. It was only them, would only be them, dancing together, souls twining. “Everything that ever happened to me, it was all so I could meet you, Quinlan. Be here with you. I’m yours. Forever.”

Her throat tightened, and the star on her chest flared, lighting up the entire conservatory like a small moon. Bryce kissed him back, not caring who saw, only that he was here.

“Everything I am is yours,” she said against his lips.

Hypaxia seemed distracted as Ruhn danced with her, trying his best to avoid watching Hunt and Bryce make moon-eyes at each other. To avoid hearing the comments that trailed in their wake.

The Umbra Mortis—now a Fae Prince. What a disgrace. The slurs and nastiness flowed past Ruhn from Fae mouths, bold enough to run free behind the safety of their masks. Not that the masks would hide their scents. Ruhn marked each one of them.

Athalar was his brother now, by law. And Ruhn didn’t put up with people talking shit about his family. The family he liked, anyway.

Cormac had already left, slipping into a shadow and teleporting out. A small mercy—Cormac had been so distracted by Bryce’s little surprise that he hadn’t bothered to confront the Hind. But Ruhn didn’t blame his cousin for bailing. After the stunt Bryce had pulled, Cormac would have been swarmed by Fae families eager to present their daughters. Flynn’s parents—a sharp-eyed Sathia in tow—were clearly scouring the ballroom for any hint of the Avallen Prince.

Ruhn suppressed his smile at the thought of their fruitless hunt and focused on his partner. Hypaxia seemed to be scanning the crowd.

His heart skipped a beat. He asked quietly, “You looking for someone?”

She cleared her throat. “My sister. The Hind.”

His chest loosened. “Over by the foot of the dais. Next to Pollux.”

Hypaxia glanced over on their next turn. The Hind and the Hammer stood together, both in matte black masks, the angel in a white imperial uniform edged in gold. The Hind’s golden, sparkling dress clung to her hips before falling to the floor. Her blond hair had been swept up, and for once, no silver torque adorned her neck. Only slender gold earrings brushed her shoulders.

“They make a beautiful pair,” Hypaxia murmured. “As monstrous inside as they are lovely outside, though.”

Ruhn grunted. “Yeah.”

Hypaxia chewed on her lip. “I was waiting until tonight to approach her.”

He studied her face. “You want me to go with you?” He could offer nothing less.

“Do you think she’ll … react badly?”

“She’s too smart to cause a scene. And I don’t think the Hind is the sort to do that anyway. She’s cut from the same cloth as my father. The worst thing that happens is that she ignores you.”

Hypaxia stiffened in his arms. “I suppose you’re right. I’d rather get this meeting over with. It will spoil the rest of my night to stew over it.”

“Why meet with her at all?”

“Because she is my sister. And I’ve never spoken to her. Or seen her in the flesh.”

“I felt that way when I learned about Bryce’s existence.”

She nodded distractedly, her eyes darting around the room again. “You’re sure you don’t mind coming with me?”

Ruhn checked the massive clock at the rear of the conservatory. Eleven fifty. He had time. A few minutes. He needed something to distract himself with anyway. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

They slipped from the dance floor, the crowd parting for the beautiful queen as she aimed for her sister. The Hind marked her approach without smiling. Pollux, however, grinned at Hypaxia, then at Ruhn.

Hypaxia, to her credit, squared her shoulders as she halted. “Lidia.”

The Hind’s mouth curled upward. “Hypaxia.” Her voice was low, smooth. It was a blatant show of disrespect, not to use the queen’s title. Not to even bow.

Hypaxia said, “I wished to formally greet you.” She added, “Sister.”

“Now, that is a name no one has ever called me,” Lidia said.

Pollux sneered. Ruhn bared his teeth in warning and received a mocking smile in return.