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Things tended to escalate swiftly when they were in one room. There was little love lost between the six lower Heads in Crescent City, the metropolis formally known as Lunathion.
The power shall always belong to those who give their lives to the city.
What’s the point of being immortal badasses if we have sagging tits?
Connor had written, You know I’m shit with talking. But what I wanted to say—before you tried to get into a fight with me instead, by the way—was that I think it’s worth it. You and me. Giving us a shot. He’d added: I’m crazy about you. I don’t want anyone else. I haven’t for a long while. One date. If it doesn’t work, then we’ll deal with it. But just give me a chance. Please.
Dump the limp-dicked bastard and put Connor out of his misery. A date with him won’t kill you. He’s been waiting years, Bryce. Years. Give me something to smile about tonight.
You won’t regret this. I’ve had a long while to figure out all the ways I’m going to spoil you. All the fun we’re going to have.
Even as my stupid fucking title brought you further influence in the empire and among your fellow kings, it still chafed, didn’t it? That your son, not you, retrieved the Starsword from the Cave of Princes in Avallen’s dark heart. That your son, not you, stood among the long-dead Starborn Princes asleep in their sarcophagi and was deemed worthy to pull the sword from its sheath. How many times did you try to draw the sword when you were young? How much research did you do in this very study to find ways to wield it without being chosen?
The royal bloodline shall end with you, Prince.
She had saved Micah Domitus that night.
Juniper swung. Bryce didn’t feel the impact on her cheek. Juniper sobbed as if her body would break apart. “I made the Drop, Bryce! Two years ago! You haven’t! Have you completely lost it?”
“Do yourself a favor, Orion Athalar: keep well away from Bryce Quinlan.”
Briggs was still staring at him, waiting for Hunt to speak. The agreement that Hunt would have voiced weeks ago now dissolved on his tongue. No, he’d been no better than this man. He didn’t know where that put him.
I see you, Quinlan, he silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it. Right back at you, her half smile seemed to say.
She’d handed him a silver mark, for which she’d earned a twitch of the whiskers and a little fanged grin. Easily the highlight of her day. Week. Year. Honestly, her entire life.
“He asked me: What blinds an Oracle? And I replied: What sort of cat visits an Oracle? He’d heard the screaming on his way in. I suppose it intrigued him. He told me to stop crying. Said it would only satisfy those who had wronged me. That I shouldn’t give them the gift of my sorrow.”
So living, and living well—it’s the greatest fuck you that you can ever give them.”
This afternoon, she’d been rising up onto her toes, arm straining to grab some book on a high shelf in the library, and it was like that color pink was the fucking Horn, and he was a kristallos demon.
Micah ripped her from her body and shoved her essence into a glass box. Put it at the base of Justinian’s crucifix. Rumor says he’s going to dump the box—Viktoria—into the Melinoë Trench and let her fall right to the bottom of the sea to go insane from the isolation and darkness.
You are free, Lehabah.” Yet Lehabah remained at the foot of the stairs. “Then let the world know that my first act of freedom was to help my friends.”
“My friends are with me and I am not afraid.”
“That’s the point of it, Bryce. Of life. To live, to love, knowing that it might all vanish tomorrow. It makes everything that much more precious.”
Bryce’s eyes stung as she smiled softly, then read through Connor’s last words to her. Message me when you’re home safe. Bryce began typing. The answer it had taken her two years, nearly to the day, to write. I’m home. She sent the message into the ether, willed it to find its way across the gilded river and to the misty isle beyond. And then she deleted the thread. Deleted Danika’s messages, too. Each swipe of her finger had her heart lightening, lifting with the rising sun.
