House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City, #1)

by Sarah J. Maas

Danika met her gaze from across the room, her eyes still wary but faintly amused. She winked. “Light it up, bitch.”

Ruhn Danaan, Crown Prince of the Valbaran Fae. Son of the Autumn King and the current possessor of the Starsword, fabled dark blade of the ancient Starborn Fae. Proof of the prince’s Chosen One status among the Fae—whatever the Hel that meant.

A cool voice asked behind her, “When you nail Hunt Athalar’s balls to the wall, will you do me a favor and take a picture?”

Hunt wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he chucked Bryce Quinlan into the Istros. After the morning he’d had, any punishment from Micah or being turned into a pig by Jesiba Roga was starting to seem well worth it.

Isaiah coughed. “You watched Quinlan for one night.” “Ten hours, to be exact. Right until her pet chimera just appeared next to me at dawn, bit me in the ass for looking like I was dozing off, and then vanished again—right back into the apartment. Just as Quinlan came out of her bedroom and opened the curtains to see me grabbing my own ass like a fucking idiot. Do you know how sharp a chimera’s teeth are?” “No.” Hunt could have sworn he heard a smile in Isaiah’s voice.

“An alpha-what?” “Alphahole. Possessive and aggressive.” She waved a hand at his bare torso. “You know—you males who rip your shirt off at the slightest provocation, who know how to kill people in twenty different ways, who have females falling over themselves to be with you; and when you finally bang one, you go full-on mating-frenzy with her, refusing to let another male look at or talk to her, deciding what and when she needs to eat, what she should wear, when she sees her friends—” “What the fuck are you talking about?” “Your favorite hobbies are brooding, fighting, and roaring; you’ve perfected about thirty different types of snarls and growls; you’ve got a cabal of hot friends, and the moment one of you mates, the others fall like dominoes, too, and gods help you when you all start having babies—”

“I made a wish here when I was thirteen—when I visited the city for the first time. Ruhn took me.” Hunt lifted a brow. “What’d you wish for?” “For my boobs to get bigger.” A laugh burst out of him, chasing away any lingering shadows that talk of Sandriel dragged up. But Hunt avoided looking at Bryce’s chest as he said, “Seems your wish paid off, Quinlan.” Understatement. Big, fucking, lace-covered understatement. She chuckled. “Crescent City: Where dreams come true.”

“What’s up with this, by the way?” He batted her away. “It’s a hat.” “It doesn’t fit with your whole predator-in-the-night image.” For a heartbeat, he was utterly silent. Then he laughed, tipping back his head. The strong tan column of his throat worked with the movement, and Bryce crossed her arms again. “Ah, Quinlan,” he said, shaking his head. He swept the hat off his head and plunked it down atop her own. “You’re merciless.”

He swallowed hard, but she merely fitted the gun to her shoulder, each movement as comfortable as he’d expect from someone raised by a legendary sharpshooter. She clicked off the safety and didn’t bother to use the scope as she said to none of them in particular, “Allow me to demonstrate why you all can kiss my fucking ass.”

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.

He could have sworn she blushed. “Hang with me, Athalar,” she said, trying to wipe the grime off her legs and hands from kneeling at the grate entrance, “and you might get rid of that stick up your ass after all.” He didn’t answer. There was just a click. She whirled toward him to find his phone out. Snapping a photo of her. Hunt’s grin was a slash of white in the rainy gloom. “I’d rather have a stick up my ass than look like a drowned rat.”

“You want to tell me something?” She gulped, scanning him from head to toe. “About what?” “About what the fuck this is?” He extended his hand. Opened up his big fist. A purple glittery unicorn lay in it. She snatched the toy from his hand. His dark eyes lit with amusement as Bryce demanded, “Why are you snooping through my things?” “Why do you have a box of unicorns in your linen closet?” “This one is a unicorn-pegasus.” She stroked the lilac mane. “Jelly Jubilee.” He just stared at her. Bryce shoved past him into the hall, where the linen closet door was still ajar, her box of toys now on one of the lower shelves. Hunt followed a step behind. Still shirtless.

“Good.” She turned back to him, remembering that she still wore only her towel, and he was still shirtless. She grabbed a box of soap and shoved it toward him. “Here. Next time you want to check out my vibrators, just ask, Athalar.” She inclined her head toward her bedroom door and winked. “They’re in the left nightstand.”

Act like trash, Sabine had told her daughter, and you can spend your days with it. Naturally, the following fall, Bryce and Danika had dressed as trash cans for the Autumnal Equinox.

Beside him, Isaiah swigged from his beer. “You could let Naomi handle her.” “I have a feeling that would result in them unleashing Hel together, and I’d still need to go end their fun.”

“Want help?” “No. This is an apology meal. Go watch your game.” “You don’t need to apologize.” “I acted like an asshole. Let me cook something for you to make up for it.” “Based on how much chili powder you just dumped into that pan, I’m not sure I want to accept this particular apology.”

Her eyes flickered with understanding. “I know.” He lifted a brow. She clarified, “The being good at something you don’t want to be good at. That talent you’d let go of in a heartbeat.” He angled his head. “I mean, look at me: I’m amazing at attracting assholes.”

“I’m sorry I dumped my baggage in your lap.” A corner of his mouth turned up. “You can dump your baggage in my lap anytime, Quinlan.” She snorted, shaking her head. “You made it sound gross.” “You said it first.” Her mouth twitched. Damn, if the smile didn’t make his chest tighten.

“Because you pretend to be irreverent and lazy, but deep down, you don’t give up. Because you know that if you do, then they win. All the asp-holes, as you called them, win. So living, and living well—it’s the greatest fuck you that you can ever give them.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a male telling me when to eat.” “How about a friend telling you that you had an understandably rough night, and you get mean as shit when you’re hungry?”

The scalding water blasted his skin like acid. He swallowed his scream, his sob, his whimper, and didn’t balk from the boiling torrent. Didn’t do anything as he let it burn everything away.

“You look how I feel,” she whispered, her throat tight. “Every day.” He blinked, his only sign that he’d heard.

Let someone in, give them the power to hurt you, and they’d do exactly that, in the end.

Ember frowned. “Why,” she asked Bryce, “is Hunt Athalar your roommate?” “He was booted from the 33rd for his questionable fashion sense,” she said, munching on the croissant. “I told him his boring black clothes don’t bother me, and let him stay here.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the cool parent. You’ve become even worse than Mom with the nagging.” “I was always worse than your mother,” he said mildly. “I was just better at hiding it.” Bryce said to Hunt, “This is why my parents have to ambush me if they want to visit. I’d never let them through the door.”

“You’re my friend.” The words hung between them. His head dipped again, as if he could hide the expression on his face as he amended, “If you would like me to be.” For a moment, she stared at him. The offer thrown out there. The quiet vulnerability. It erased any annoyance still in her veins. “Didn’t you know, Athalar?” The tentative hope in his face nearly destroyed her. “We’ve been friends from the moment you thought Jelly Jubilee was a dildo.”

A life. These were the photos of someone with a life, and a good one at that. A reminder of what it had felt like to have a home, and someone who cared whether he lived or died. Someone who made him smile just by entering a room. He’d never had that before. With anyone.

Ruhn asked, “Why the fuck were you standing on the Black Dock after sundown?” “I was kneeling,” she muttered. “Same fucking question.”

Flynn muttered something. “What?” She narrowed her eyes at him. Flynn crossed his arms. “I said I’ve known that you’re a princess for all of an hour and you’re already a pain in my ass.”

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.”

Lehabah glowed, bright as the heart of a star. “My friends are behind me, and I will protect them.”

She kept whispering the words over and over again. They morphed together into one sentence, a prayer, a challenge. “My friends are with me and I am not afraid.”

Bryce might have been fathered by the Autumn King, but she was Randall Silago’s daughter. And the legendary sharpshooter had taught her well.

The jackals joined them. The coyotes. The wild dogs and common dogs. The hyenas and dingoes. The foxes. It was who they were. Who they had always been. Defenders of those who could not protect themselves. Defenders of the small, the young. Shifter or true animal, that truth lay etched in the soul of every canine.

“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.”

“What brings loyalty beyond death, undimming despite the years. What remains unwavering in the face of hopelessness.”

Through love, all is possible.

“What are you going to do with it?” “Open a chain of beach-themed restaurants.” “It was too much to hope that achieving that much power would give you a sense of dignity.”

“Isaiah needs me at the Comitium. He’s up to his neck in angels wanting to challenge his authority and needs backup.” He arched a brow. “Want to come play Scary Asshole with me?” Despite everything, despite the Asteri watching and all that had occurred, Bryce smiled. “I have just the outfit.”

“I don’t care if I’m called Prince or Starborn or the Chosen One or any of that.” He grabbed her hand. “The only thing I want to be called right now is your brother.” He added softly, “If you’ll have me.”