At least she’d spoken to Hunt one last time. She hadn’t expected him to be able to pick up. Had thought the phone would go right to audiomail where she could say everything she wanted. The words she still hadn’t said aloud to him.
She didn’t let herself think of it as she took the final step to the Gate’s quartz archway.
She was Starborn, and the Horn lay within her, repaired and now filled with her light.
This had to work.
The quartz of the Gate was a conduit. A prism. Able to take light and power and refract them. She closed her eyes, remembering the rainbows this Gate had been adorned with on the last day of Danika’s life, when they’d come here together. Made their wishes.
This had to work. A final wish.
“Close,” Bryce whispered, shaking.
And she thrust her starlight into the Gate’s clear stone.
88
Hunt had no words in his head, his heart, as Bryce shoved her burning starlight into the Gate.
White light blasted from the Gate’s clear stone.
It filled the square, shooting outward for blocks. Demons caught in its path screamed as they were blinded, then fled. Like they remembered whom it had once belonged to. How the Starborn Prince had battled their hordes with it.
The Starborn line had bred true—twice.
Ruhn’s face drained of color as he remained kneeling and beheld his sister, the blazing Gate. What she’d declared to the world. What she’d revealed herself to be.
His rival. A threat to all he stood to inherit.
Hunt knew what the Fae did to settle disputes to the throne.
Bryce possessed the light of a star, such as hadn’t been witnessed since the First Wars. Jesiba looked like she’d seen a ghost. Fury gaped at the screen. When the flare dimmed, Hunt’s breath caught in his throat.
The void within the Heart Gate was gone. She’d channeled her light through the Horn somehow—and sealed the portal.
In the stunned silence of the conference room, they watched Bryce pant, leaning against one side of the Gate before sliding to the slate tiles. The crystal archway still shone. A temporary haven that would make any demons think twice before approaching, fearful of a Starborn descendant.
But the rest of the Gates in the city remained open.
A phone rang—an outgoing call, linked to the room’s speakers. Hunt scanned the room for the culprit and found the Autumn King with his phone in his hands. But the male was apparently too lost in the rage crinkling his face to care that the call was audible to everyone. Declan Emmet showed no sign of even trying to make the call private as Ember Quinlan picked up the phone and said, “Who is—”
“You’ve known she was Starborn Fae all these years and lied to me about it,” the king bit out.
Ember didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve been waiting for this call for more than twenty years.”
“You bitch—”
A low, agonized laugh. “Who do you think ended your goons all those years ago? Not me and Randall. They had her in their grasp—by the neck. And they had us at gunpoint.” Another laugh. “She realized what they were going to do to me. To Randall. And she fucking blinded them.”
What blinds an Oracle?
Light. Light the way the Starborn had possessed it.
Bryce still sat against the archway, breathing hard. Like summoning that star, wielding the Horn, had taken everything out of her.
Ruhn murmured, more to himself than anyone, “Those books claimed there were multiple Starborn in the First Wars. I told her, and she …” He blinked slowly. “She already knew.”
“She lied because she loves you,” Hunt ground out. “So you could keep your title.”
Because compared to the Starborn powers he’d seen from Ruhn … Bryce’s were the real deal. Ruhn’s ashen face contorted with pain.
“Who knew?” the Autumn King demanded of Ember. “Those fucking priestesses?”
“No. Only me and Randall,” Ember said. “And Danika. She and Bryce got into some serious trouble in college and it came out then. She blinded the males that time, too.”
Hunt remembered the photo on the guest room dresser—taken in the aftermath of that. Their closeness and exhaustion the result not just of a battle fought and won but of a deadly secret revealed at last.
“Her tests showed no power,” the Autumn King spat.
“Yes,” Ember said quietly. “They were correct.”
“Explain.”
“It is a gift of starlight. Light, and nothing more. It never meant anything to us, but to your people …” Ember paused. “When Bryce was thirteen, she agreed to visit you. To meet you—to see if you could be trusted to know what she possessed and not be threatened by it.”