House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City, #3)

by Sarah J. Maas

“Flynn’s right: I don’t like it here.” She licked—fucking licked—the dark substance on her fingers and grimaced. “Nope. Not at all.”

Wyrd stone?

“Your sister is a force of nature.” Nothing but admiration shone through the words. Pride glimmered in his chest at the praise, but Ruhn merely said, “She is.” He let that be that.

always so full of pride for Bryce

“I come from a long line of powerful stag shifters. We have rituals. Secret ones, old ones. We don’t necessarily worship the same gods that you do. I think our gods predate this world, but I’ve never confirmed it.” “Let me guess: You participated in some kind of secret sex rite and got pregnant?” Her eyes widened, then she laughed—a full, throaty sound this time. “Essentially, yes. A fertility rite, deep in the Aldosian Forest. I was selected from the females of my family. A male from another family was chosen. Neither of our identities were known to each other, or to each other’s families. It was quick, and not particularly interesting, and if there was fertility magic, I couldn’t tell you what the Hel it was.”

calanmai

He laid a hand on her cheek. Gently turned her face back to his. Her skin was so soft, so warm. “Lidia,” he said roughly. “Finding out who you are … it fucked with my head. To know you’re the Hind, but also Lidia—also Day. My Day. But now …” He swallowed. “Now?” Her gaze dipped to his mouth. His cock tightened at that gaze. He said, voice near guttural, “Now I don’t fucking care who you are, so long as you’re mine.” Her eyes shot to his, again full of surprise. “Because I’m yours, Day. I’m fucking yours.”

mates

Hunt studied the black, glittering dust on her fingers and paled. “That’s black salt.” Bryce nodded slowly. Baxian blew out a breath that sounded suspiciously like Oh fuck. “These caves are made entirely of black salt,” Bryce said. She’d seen it as soon as the ghoul had gouged lines in the wall. Knew its smell, its rotting, oily feel. A taste of it had confirmed her suspicions.

Hunt’s lightning sparked, illuminating the whole city and river. Apollion lifted a hand. Pure, sizzling lightning danced around it, arcing out to meet Hunt’s. “Welcome, son,” said the Prince of the Pit.

son

and knife, Bryce needs to find the starlight Helena took from the Starsword—the last third of Theia’s power—which is stashed somewhere on Avallen?” “Yes,” Aidas said simply. “But how do I make them open that portal to nowhere—and what the Hel does that mean, anyway?” Bryce griped. Thanatos said roughly, “We’ve been wondering that for eons.” Aidas dragged a hand through his golden hair. “Ultimate destruction was the best any of us could guess.” “Fantastic,” Bryce grumbled. Yet Hunt asked, “If Avallen is one of the stronger thin places, why did the Asteri even allow the Fae to live here?” “The black salt, in such high quantity, keeps them away. They never realized that its presence drew us as much as it repelled them,” Apollion said with satisfaction. “It has the same properties that made us immune to the thrall of their black crowns.” Bryce tensed at that, glancing at Hunt, but her mate asked, setting aside his own questions for now, “Did Helena know the Asteri were repelled from this place?” Aidas nodded. “Once she figured it out, it confirmed her decision to hide Theia’s power here.” Bryce angled her head. “But why did the mists open for Helena to get through in the first place?” “The black salt only repels the Asteri; the mists repel everyone else. But certain people, with certain gifts, can access the power of thin places—on any world. World-walkers.” Aidas gestured gracefully to Bryce. “You are one of them. So were Helena and Theia. Their natural abilities lent themsel...

“I’m sorry,” Hunt interrupted, “but are you implying that I was made by you two assholes? As some sort of pet?” He pointed to Thanatos, then to Apollion. “Not a pet,” Apollion said darkly. “A weapon.” He nodded to Bryce. “For her, whenever she might come along.”

Apollion nodded to Hunt. “Why do you think you’re so adept at hunting demons? It’s in your blood—part of me is in your blood.”

“Just as he gave over some of his essence for the kristallos,” Thanatos said, “so he gave something to me for you. His Helfire.” “Helfire?” Bryce demanded. “The lightning,” Thanatos said, waving an irritated hand. “Capable of killing almost anything. Even an Asteri.” “That’s how you killed Sirius?” Bryce asked. “With your … Helfire?”

“Your father knew your mother briefly,” Aidas said. “And he knew having a partner would help lift her from her poverty. He had every intention of staying. Of leaving behind his life and raising you in secret.” Hunt could barely ask, “What happened?” “The mystics told Rigelus of your father’s connection to us. They didn’t discover everything—nothing about you or your mother. Only that he had been speaking to us. Rigelus had him brought in, tortured, and executed.” Hunt’s heart stalled. “He didn’t break,” Apollion said with something like kindness. “He never mentioned your mother, or her pregnancy. The Asteri never knew you were tied to him in any way.” “What … what was his name?” “Hyrieus,” Aidas answered. “He was a good male, Hunt Athalar. As you are.”

Hunt gripped Bryce’s hand atop his knee. “Is it in my DNA that Bryce and I are mates? Was that engineered, too?” “No,” Aidas said quickly, “that was never intended. I think that was left to higher powers. Whatever they may be.” Hunt turned to Bryce and found nothing but love in her eyes. He couldn’t stand it.

“I am darkness itself,” Apollion said softly. “True darkness. The kind that exists in the bowels of a black hole.”

“So if I open the Northern Rift with the Horn …,” Bryce said. Hunt cleared his throat in warning. “All seven of you and your armies will come through?” “The three of us,” Aidas amended. “Our four other brothers are currently engaged in other conflicts, helping other worlds.”

Apollion said to Hunt, “Do not squander the gifts that have been given to you—by me, by my brother.” His gaze drifted to the halo on Hunt’s brow. “No true son of Hel can be caged.” Then he was gone, too. Son of Hel. Hunt’s very soul iced over at the thought.

.

you find that final piece of Theia’s power … if the cost of uniting the sword and knife is too much, Bryce Quinlan, then don’t do it. Choose life.” He glanced to Hunt. “Choose each other. I have lived with the alternative for millennia—the loss never gets easier to bear.” Bryce reached a ghostly hand toward Aidas, but the Prince of the Chasm was gone. And all of Hel with him.

“I should have done this a long time ago,” her father snarled, and plunged his burning sword toward her exposed heart. The Autumn King only made it halfway before light burst from his chest. Hunt’s lightning had— No. It wasn’t Hunt’s lightning that shone through the Autumn King’s rib cage. It was the Starsword. And it was Ruhn wielding it, standing behind him. Ruhn, who had driven the sword right through their father’s cold heart.

I was wrong. I think the Oracle meant all of them, Ruhn went on, mind-to-mind. The male lines. The Starborn Princes included—all you fucks who have corrupted and stolen and never once apologized for it. The entire system. This bullshit of crowns and inheritance. His father’s sneering voice filled his mind. You’re a spoiled, ungrateful brat who never deserved to carry my crown— I don’t want it, Ruhn snapped, and shut down the bridge between their minds that allowed his father to speak. He’d had enough of listening to this male. Blood trickled from his father’s lips as his Vanir body sought to heal him—to rally his strength to attack. The line will end with me, you fucking prick, Ruhn said into his father’s mind, because I yield my crown, my title, to the queen.

True fear turned his father’s face ashen. And out of the corner of his eye, Ruhn saw Bryce’s star begin to glow. A serene peace bloomed in him. I always assumed the Oracle’s prophecy meant that I would die. He let his kernel of starlight flicker down the blade, an answer to Bryce’s beckoning blaze. One last time. But I am going to live, he said to his father. And I am going to live well—without you. Even Morven’s shadows weren’t fast enough as Ruhn whipped the Starsword through the air again. And sliced clean through his father’s neck.

Morven hissed, “You’ll be Queen of Avallen over my dead …” He trailed off at the smile on her face. And paled. “As I was saying,” Bryce drawled, “for the moment, I’m queen. I’m judge, jury …” Bryce looked to Sathia, still shaken and wide-eyed from the twins’ attack—yet unafraid. Unbroken, despite what the males in her life, what this male, had tried to do to her. So Bryce peered down at Morven and finished sweetly, “And I’m your motherfucking executioner.” The King of Avallen was still blazing with hate when Bryce slid Truth-Teller into his heart.

Light blasted up through the blades into her hands, her arms, her heart. Bryce could hear it through her feet, through the stone. The song of the land beneath her. Quiet and old and forgotten, but there. She heard how Avallen had yielded its joy, its bright green lands and skies and flowers, so it might hold the power as it was bid, waiting all this time for someone to unleash it. To free it.

Sathia and Flynn laughed, and both siblings knelt, putting their fingers in the grass. The earth magic in their veins surged forth as an oak burst from Flynn’s hands, shooting high over them, and from Sathia’s hands tumbled runners of strawberry and brambles of blackberry, tangles of raspberries and thickets of blueberries— “Holy gods,” Tharion said, and pointed out to the sea. It was no longer gray and thrashing, but a vibrant, clear turquoise. And rising from the water, just as they had seen on the map Declan had found, were islands, large and small. Lush and green with life. Forests erupted on the island they stood on, soon joined by mountains and rivers. So much life, so much magic, freed at last of Vanir control. A place not only for the Fae, but for everyone. All of them.

Proof of what might be afterward. Ruhn pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. Tears ran down his face. She couldn’t stop crying—crying and laughing—with all that flowed from her heart. Her brother only pressed a kiss to her brow and said, “Long live the queen.”

Ruhn pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. Tears ran down his face. She couldn’t stop crying—crying and laughing—with all that flowed from her heart. Her brother only pressed a kiss to her brow and said, “Long live the queen.”

ruhn danaan is fucking perfect

Bryce peered up at him. “Are you … okay?” He was silent for a long moment, looking out at the landscape. “No.” She pressed closer into his side. His throat worked for a moment. “I’m some weird demonic test-tube baby.” “Maybe that’s where you came from, Hunt,” she said, offering him a gentle smile, “but it’s not who you are—who you became.”

🤣

Her chin lifted, and he could have sworn a crown of stars glimmered around her head. “I want to wipe them off the face of the planet,” she said, and though her voice was soft, nothing but pure, predatory rage filled it. “I’ll get the mop and bucket,” he said, and flashed her a smile. She looked at him, all regal fury and poise—and laughed. The first moment of normalcy between them, joyous and beautiful. Another thing for him to fight for. Until the very end.

To whatever end

Is it weird to say I’m proud of you? Because I am. She huffed a laugh and interlaced their fingers, her thumb stroking over the back of his hand. I see you, Ruhn, she said gently. All of you.

Somehow, a barrier had been removed. One that had ordered him to stand down, to obey … It was nothing but ashes now. Only dominance remained. Untethered. But filling the void of that barrier with a rising, raging force— Ithan held out his hand and willed the thing under his skin to come forward. Ice and snow appeared in his palm. They did not melt against his skin. He could fucking summon snow. The magic sang in him, an old and strange melody. Wolves didn’t have magic like this. Never had, as far as he’d heard. Shifting and strength, yes, but this elemental power … it shouldn’t exist in a wolf, yet there it was. Rising in him, filling the place where he’d never realized the parasite had existed.

like Rowan and fenrys

“Hail Ithan,” Amelie said, loud enough for all to hear, “Prime of the Valbaran Wolves.” In answer, a chorus of howls went up from around the Den. Then the city. Then the wilderness beyond the city walls. As if all of Midgard hailed him. When it ceased, Ithan tipped his wolf’s head to the sky and loosed a howl of his own. Triumph and pain and mourning. Make your brother proud. And as his howl finished echoing, he could have sworn he heard a male wolf’s cry float up from the Bone Quarter itself.

When it ceased, Ithan tipped his wolf’s head to the sky and loosed a howl of his own. Triumph and pain and mourning. Make your brother proud. And as his howl finished echoing, he could have sworn he heard a male wolf’s cry float up from the Bone Quarter itself.

“But you are not from Hel,” Hypaxia said. “No.” The Under-King’s milky eyes settled on Ithan. “I was birthed by the Void, but my people …” He smiled cruelly at Ithan. “They were not unknown to your own ancestors, wolf. I crept through when they charged so blindly into Midgard. This place is much better suited to my needs than the caves and barrows I was confined to.”

Barrows in Mistward

“And she,” the Under-King went on, gesturing to that unusual depiction of Urd towering above him, “was not a goddess, but a force that governed worlds. 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.”

I was right! Urd is Wyrd!

No more Sailings. He’d never go to another. He’d single-handedly destroyed the Fendyr line. Why not destroy Death, too?

Then her head tipped back, and her delicate muscles tightened around him as she came, sending him spiraling after her. He pounded into her through it, that feral part of him relishing spilling into her, and she was his and he was hers, and there was a word for it, but it eluded him.

mates

She looked back at all of them. Her eyes met Hunt’s. And Bryce said before she stepped into the light, “Through love, all is possible.”

It was indeed a sight beyond words—beyond any description. An army of the undead, of machines and demons, marched for the city walls.

Polaris’s eyes widened as Bryce plunged the blades into her chest. And as those blades thrust through skin and bone, the star in Bryce’s own chest flared out to meet them. It collided with the blades, and both sword and knife blazed bright, as if white-hot. The light extended up through Bryce’s hands, her arms, her body, turning her incandescent— Into a star. A sun. Polaris screamed, her mouth opening unnaturally wide.

Gone were the princes’ humanoid skins. Creatures of darkness and decay stood there, mouths full of sharp teeth, leathery wings splayed. A great black mass lay within Apollion’s yawning open mouth as he surged for Octartis—

Tendrils of Hunt’s Helfire twined down the blade, into Polaris herself. Lightning danced over Bryce’s teeth, over her shocked eyes. He expected an outward explosion, expected to see every last bit of Asteri bone and brain rupture, shard by shard. But instead, Polaris imploded. Her chest caved in, sucked into the blades as if by a powerful vacuum. Followed by her abdomen and shoulders, and Polaris was screaming and screaming— Until he saw it, just a flash, so fast that in real time he’d never have witnessed it: the tiny, inky dot the two blades had made, right where they met. The thing Polaris had been sucked into. A black dot.

Ruhn had fucked up. In so many ways, he’d fucked up.

So Ruhn stepped forward. “I’ll trade you. Me, for them.” Any other opponent would have dismissed it. But Pollux looked him over with a cruel, hungry sort of curiosity. Ruhn snarled, saying the words he hadn’t dared voice until now, “She’s my mate, you fucker.” Lidia inhaled a sharp breath. Ruhn taunted the Hammer, “You want me to tell you how she said we measured up?” Crass, crude words—but ones he knew would strike the Hammer’s fragile ego.

So he said to her, mind-to-mind, 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. He shut off the connection between them before she could reply. Then Ruhn faced the white-winged angel, lifting his hands. “All yours, Hammer.”

“Brannon.” She stifled a sob around the boy’s full name,

Still panting, blazing with fire, Lidia said, “An old bloodline,” and got to her feet. It was Daybright, as Ruhn had seen her in his mind. She’d presented herself—her true self—to him all this time.

Galathynius

Freed of any secrets, of any need to keep them, Lidia seemed to unleash all that she was. Ruhn could only watch as fire poured down Pollux’s throat. Into his body. Roasting him from the inside out until he was nothing but smoldering cinders, a pillar of brimstone standing mid-strike, mouth still open. She’d incinerated him.

It confirmed what Lidia had long guessed. 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.

Her fire a song in her blood, Lidia walked across the battlefield. Bullets melted before they could reach her.

Lidia dove deep, all the way into the simmering dregs of her power.

Pure Aelin

And as one flame, one unified people, as Bryce Quinlan had promised, their fire struck the enemy line.