More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Read between
October 8 - October 20, 2025
Friends worth fighting for. Worth dying for.
“Danika Fendyr would have skewered all of you to the front gates of the Den for how you treated Quinlan.”
Jesiba spoke as he wrapped his fingers around the knob. Her voice was heavy, resigned. “Be careful, pup.”
He glanced down the hall. To Bryce’s bedroom door. Maybe he didn’t need to go in unarmed.
“Surprise: I can teleport. Don’t barf.”
“That is …,” Randall said, and retched again. “Useful, but horrible.”
“I think that sums me up in a nutshell,”
“Ithan Holstrom is my heir.”
“You are hereby stripped of your title, your rank, and your authority.”
And as his howl finished echoing, he could have sworn he heard a male wolf’s cry float up from the Bone Quarter itself.
Sathia grinned. “Stop it,” Tharion muttered. “It only encourages them to be cuter.”
And her face was a portrait of pure shock as Bryce lifted a hand in greeting and said, “Hello, Nesta.”
“I suppose I should wish you congratulations on your nuptials, but I instead wish you luck. With a male like that for a husband, you’ll need it in droves.”
LOL
“Fry the bitch,”
“Because I’m the Umbra Mortis,”
“Welcome back to Midgard,” she said. “Hope you have a pleasant stay.”
“the pup goes to pitch a deworming medicine to a bunch of wolves and comes home Prime.”
Gods, he wished Bryce was with him. She’d have an idea. Just cut her up real small and shove her down the garbage disposal.
Symbols were carved all over the bowl, continuing down her fingers, her arms, her body.
A cauldron of life, brimming with the language of creation. Urd, they call her here—a bastardized version of her true name. Wyrd, we called her in that old world.”
His brother laid a hand on his heart and bowed his head, a mark of respect to the Prime. Ithan glowered. “It’s not funny.”
“Ready to change the world?”
“Let’s burn this fucker down,”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” she whispered to him,
“Let’s light it up.”
“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.”
For the moment, it was only their souls, their bodies, and nothing else mattered. Just Hunt. And Just Bryce.
Home wasn’t a place or a thing, but him. Wherever Hunt was … that was where home was. She’d find him across galaxies, if need be.
“Right,” Bryce said, “we all clear on the plan?” “Which one?” Ruhn muttered. “You have, like, seven.”
And Bryce said before she stepped into the light, “Through love, all is possible.”
“You brought so much joy into my life, too, Ruhn.”
Bryce hid in the shadows of a massive statue of Polaris, the female’s hands upraised in victory.
A spark of Hunt’s lightning struck the two pairs of wings still pinned to the wall. His own wings, and Isaiah’s. They caught fire, burning until they were nothing but ashes floating on the breeze of a thousand wings, freed at last from this place.
She smiled then—a predator’s smile, a queen’s smile—as the armies of Hel crested the hill.
At the sight of the teeming hordes cresting the hills, seemingly from nowhere, at the sight of the three princes marching at their front
Isaiah’s voice boomed out. “Fallen, you are now Risen! To the gates!”
And walking toward them, the armies parting before him, was the Prince of the Ravine, with the Prince of the Pit trailing close behind.
When she’d looked at the cameras and shown the world what lurked under the freckles and smile: the apex predator beneath. Wrath’s bruised heart.
They had come to help. And for a single heartbeat, pride at being a son of Hel threaded through him.
Ruhn snarled, saying the words he hadn’t dared voice until now, “She’s my mate, you fucker.”
I love you. I fell in love with you in the depths of my soul, and it’s my soul that will find yours again in the next life.
Not some freak accident or bomb, but fire magic, pouring out of Lidia. Searing from her.
“Brannon.” She stifled a sob around the boy’s full name,
It was Daybright, as Ruhn had seen her in his mind. She’d presented herself—her true self—to him all this time.
“You signed your death warrant when you touched my sons,”
Why she had named Brannon after the oldest legends from her family’s bloodline: of a Fae King from another world, fire in his veins, who had created stags with the power of flame to be his sacred guards.
It was time for Lidia to clean house. “You—” Mordoc barked. Lidia didn’t give him the chance to finish.
Her fire a song in her blood, Lidia walked across the battlefield. Bullets melted before they could reach her.
For the first time in her miserable existence, she let the world see her for what she was. Let herself see all that she was.
But right now … Lidia smirked at the queen, at their gathering enemies. “Let’s burn it all down.”
