The Crown Prince of the Fae pointed at Bryce. “Get off the floor.”
Bryce didn’t move. She just repeated to Sandriel, “Take me in his place.”
Hunt snapped at Bryce, “Be quiet,” just as Ruhn snarled at the Archangel, “Don’t listen to a word she says—”
Sandriel took a step toward Bryce. Another. Until she stood before her, peering down into Bryce’s flushed face.
Hunt pleaded, “Sandriel—”
“You offer your life,” Sandriel said to Bryce. “Under no coercion, no force.”
Ruhn lunged forward, shadows unfurling around him, but Sandriel raised a hand and a wall of wind held him in check. It choked off the prince’s shadows, shredding them into nothing.
It held Hunt in check, too, as Bryce met Sandriel’s stare and said, “Yes. In exchange for Hunt’s freedom, I offer myself in his place.” Her voice shook, cracking. She knew how he’d suffered at the Archangel’s hands. Knew what awaited her would be even worse.
“Everyone here would call me a fool to take this bargain,” Sandriel mused. “A half-breed with no true power or hope to come into it—in exchange for the freedom of one of the most powerful malakim to ever darken the skies. The only warrior on Midgard who can wield lightning.”
“Sandriel, please,” Hunt begged. The air ripping from his throat choked off his words.
Pollux smiled again. Hunt bared his teeth at him as Sandriel stroked a hand over Bryce’s cheek, wiping away her tears. “But I know your secret, Bryce Quinlan,” Sandriel whispered. “I know what a prize you are.”
Ruhn cut in, “That is enough—”
Sandriel stroked Bryce’s face again. “The only daughter of the Autumn King.”
Hunt’s knees wobbled.
“Holy fuck,” Tristan Flynn breathed. Declan had gone pale as death.
Sandriel purred at Bryce, “Yes, what a prize you would be to possess.”
Her cousin’s face was stark with terror.
Not cousin. Brother. Ruhn was her brother. And Bryce was …
“What does your father think of his bastard daughter borrowing such a vast amount from Jesiba Roga?” Sandriel went on, chuckling as Bryce began crying in earnest now. “What shame it would bring upon his royal household, knowing you sold your life away to a half-rate sorceress.”
Bryce’s pleading eyes met his. The amber eyes of the Autumn King.
Sandriel said, “You thought you were safe from me? That after you pulled your little stunt when I arrived, I wouldn’t look into your history? My spies are second to none. They found what could not be found. Including your life span test from twelve years ago, and whom it exposed as your father. Even though he paid steeply to bury it.”
Ruhn stepped forward, either pushing past Sandriel’s wind or being allowed to do so. He grabbed Bryce under the arm and hauled her to her feet. “She is a female member of the Fae royal household and a full civitas of the Republic. I lay claim to her as my sister and kin.”
Ancient words. From laws that had never been changed, though public sentiment had.
Bryce whirled on him. “You have no right—”
“Based upon the laws of the Fae, as approved by the Asteri,” Ruhn charged on, “she is my property. My father’s. And I do not permit her to trade herself in exchange for Athalar.”
Hunt’s legs almost gave out with relief. Even as Bryce shoved at Ruhn, clawed at him, and growled, “I’m no property of yours—”
“You are a Fae female of my bloodline,” Ruhn said coldly. “You are my property and our father’s until you marry.”
She looked to Declan, to Flynn, whose solemn faces must have told her she’d find no allies among them. She hissed at Ruhn, “I will never forgive you. I will never—”
“We’re done here,” Ruhn said to Sandriel.
He tugged Bryce away, his friends falling into formation around them, and Hunt tried to memorize her face, even with despair and rage twisting it.
Ruhn tugged her again, but she thrashed against him.
“Hunt,” she pleaded, stretching a hand for him, “I’ll find a way.”
Pollux laughed. Sandriel just began to turn from them, bored.
But Bryce continued to reach for him, even as Ruhn tried to drag her toward the doors.
Hunt stared at her outstretched fingers. The desperate hope in her eyes.
No one had ever fought for him. No one had ever cared enough to do so.
“Hunt,” Bryce begged, shaking. Her fingers strained. “I’ll find a way to save you.”