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

Ithan squared his shoulders, tucking his hands behind his back. The same pose he’d taken when getting instructions from Coach. To Hel with it, then.

“One of the Astronomer’s mystics is a wolf. An Alpha wolf.” The words were met with silence, but Sabine’s eyes narrowed. “She’s from Nena—sold so young she doesn’t know her name, or her age. I’m not even sure if she knows she’s an Alpha. But she’s a wolf, and she’s no better than a slave in that tank. I … We can’t leave her there.”

“What business is it of ours?” Sabine demanded.

“She’s a wolf,” Ithan repeated. “That should be all we need to help her.”

“There are plenty of wolves. And plenty of Alphas. They are not all our responsibility.” Sabine exposed her teeth again. “Is this part of some scheme you and that half-breed whore are concocting?”

She sneered as she said it, but … Sabine had come to Bryce’s apartment that night to warn her to stay out of wolf business. Out of some fear, however unfounded, that Bryce would somehow back Ithan—as if Sabine herself could be at risk of being overthrown.

Ithan tucked that aside. Tossing out wild accusations wouldn’t help his cause right now. So he said carefully, “I just want to help the mystic.”

“Is this what you’ve dedicated your time to now, Holstrom? Charity cases?”

Ithan swallowed his retort. “Danika would have done something.”

“Danika was an idealistic fool,” Sabine spat. “Don’t waste our time with this.”

Ithan looked to the Prime, but the old wolf said nothing. Did nothing. Ithan turned to the door again and strode out.

Hypaxia rose to her feet as he appeared. “Done so soon?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He’d told someone about the mystic. He supposed … Well, now he supposed he could go to Pangera with few regrets.

Sabine strutted out of the study. She growled low in her throat at Ithan, but faltered upon seeing Hypaxia. Hypaxia held the wolf’s stare with steely calm. Sabine only snorted and stalked away, slamming the hall door behind her.

“Let’s go,” Ithan said to Hypaxia.

But the door to the study opened again, and the Prime stood there, a hand on the jamb to support himself. “The mystic,” the Prime said, panting slightly, as if the walk from his desk to the door had winded him. “What did she look like?”

“Brown hair. Medium brown, I think. Pale skin.” A common enough description.

“And her scent? Was it like snow and embers?”

Ithan stilled. The ground seemed to sway. “How do you know that?”

The old wolf bowed his silvery head. “Because Sabine is not the only Fendyr heir.”

Ithan rocked back on his heels at that. Was that why Sabine had come to the apartment that night to warn off Bryce? Not to keep Ithan from becoming the Prime Apparent, but to scare Bryce away before she could discover there was a true alternative to Sabine. A legitimate one.

Because Bryce would stop at nothing to find that other heir.

And Sabine would kill them to prevent it.





67

Tharion burst into the Viper Queen’s nest. He had only minutes until all Hel broke loose.

Ariadne was sprawled on her belly on the carpet, a book splayed open before her, bare feet bobbing above her ample backside. The sort of ample backside that on any other day, he’d truly appreciate. The dragon didn’t remove her focus from her book as she said, “She’s in the back.”

Tharion ran for the rear room. The Viper Queen lounged on a couch before the window overlooking the fighting pit where the current match was unfolding, reading something on her electronic tablet. “Mer,” she said by way of greeting.

“I want to be one of your prize fighters.”

She slowly turned her head toward him. “I don’t take freelancers.”

“Then buy me.”

“You’re not a slave, mer.”

“I’ll sell myself to you.”

The words sounded as insane as they felt. But he had no other options. His alternative was another form of slavery. At least here, he’d be away from that stifling court.

The Viper Queen set down her tablet. “A civitas selling himself into slavery. Such a thing is not done.”

“You’re law unto yourself. You can do it.”

“Your queen will flood my district for spite.”

“She isn’t dumb enough to fuck with you.”

“I take it that’s why you’re rushing into my care.”

Tharion checked his phone. Ten minutes left at most. “It’s either be trapped in a palace down there or trapped up here. I choose here, where I won’t be required to breed some royal offspring.”

“You are becoming a slave. To be free of the River Queen.” Even the Vipe looked like she was wondering if he’d gone mad.

“Is there another way? Because I’m out of ideas.”

The Viper Queen angled her head, bob shifting with the movement. “A good businessperson would tell you no, and accept this absurd offer.” Her purple lips parted in a smile. “But …” Her gaze swept across the room, to the Fae males standing guard by an unmarked door. He had no idea what lay beyond. Possibly her bedchamber. Why it needed to be guarded when she wasn’t inside was beyond him. “They defected from the Autumn King. Swore allegiance to me. They’ve proved loyal.”

“So I’ll do it. I hereby defect. Give me some way to immerse myself in water once a day and I’m set.”

She chuckled. “You think you’re the first mer fighter I’ve had? There is a tub a few levels down, with water piped in right from the Istros. It’s yours. But defecting … That is not as easy as simply saying the words.” She stood, rolling back the sleeve of her black jumpsuit to expose her wrist. A tattoo of a snake twining around a crescent moon lay there. She lifted her wrist to her mouth and bit, and blood—darker than usual—welled where her teeth had been. “Drink.”

The floor began rumbling, and Tharion knew it wasn’t from the fight. Knew something ancient and primordial was coming for him, to drag him back to the watery depths.

He grabbed her wrist and brought it to his mouth.

If he defected from the River Queen, then he could defect from the Viper Queen one day, couldn’t he?

He didn’t ask. Didn’t doubt it as he laid his lips on her wrist, and her blood filled his mouth.

Burned his mouth. His throat.

Tharion staggered back, choking, grabbing at his neck. Her blood, her venom dissolved his throat, his chest, his heart—

Cold, piercing and eternal, erupted through him. Tharion crashed to his knees.

The rumbling halted. Then retreated. Like whatever it had been hunting for had vanished.

Tharion panted, bracing for the icy death that awaited him.

But nothing happened. Only that vague sense of cold. Of … calm. He slowly lifted his eyes to the Viper Queen.

She smiled down at him. “Seems like that did the trick.” He struggled to his feet, swaying. He rubbed at the hollow, strange place in his chest. “Your first fight is tonight,” she said, still smiling. “I suggest you rest.”

“I need to help my friends finish something first.”

Her brows rose. “Ah. This business with Ophion.”

“Of a sort. I need to be able to help them.”

“You should have bargained for that freedom before swearing yourself to me.”