Flynn and Dec swapped glances. The latter shrugged. “Why not?”
“I’m a wolf. You’re Fae.”
“So old-fashioned.” Flynn winked. “I had you pegged as more progressive than that.”
“I don’t want your pity,” Ithan said.
Declan drew back. “Who the fuck said anything about pity?”
Flynn put up his hands. “We’re only friends with you because we want good sunball tickets.”
Ithan looked between the males. Then burst out laughing.
“All right.” He rubbed at his sore throat again. “That’s a good enough reason for me.”
Ruhn monitored his sister as they waited for Athalar to finish briefing some senior members of the 33rd on what had gone down with the deathstalker.
It felt like last spring all over again. Granted, Micah had been the one summoning those kristallos demons, but … this couldn’t be good. The Horn was tattooed on Bryce’s back now—what wouldn’t Hel do to attain it?
“The answer,” Bryce said to Ruhn, “is that I’m not going to allow any sort of security detail.”
Ruhn blinked. And said silently, I wasn’t thinking that.
She glared at him sidelong. I could feel you brooding about the attack. It’s the logical conclusion from an overly aggressive Fae male.
Overly aggressive?
Protective?
Bryce. This is some serious-ass shit.
I know.
And you’re a princess now. An official one.
She crossed her arms, watching Hunt talk with his friends. I know.
How do you feel about it?
How do you feel about it?
Why the fuck would it make any difference what I feel? He scowled at her.
Because now you have to share the crown.
I’m glad I can share it with you. Selfishly, pathetically glad, Bryce. But … isn’t this what you wanted to avoid?
It is. Her mental voice hardened into sharp steel.
Are you going to do something about it?
Maybe.
Tread carefully. There are so many laws and rules and shit that you don’t know about. I can fill you in, but … this is a whole new level of the game. You have to be on alert.
She faced him, offering a broad grin that didn’t meet her eyes before taking a few steps toward Athalar. “If dear old dad wants a princess,” she said, looking more like their father than he’d ever witnessed, “then he’ll get one.”
“Dreadwolves prowling the Old Square,” Hypaxia hissed under her breath to Tharion as she peered out the window of her private suite on the second floor of the elegant embassy.
Despite the plush furniture, the room definitely belonged to a witch: a small crystal altar to Cthona adorned the eastern wall, covered in various tools of worship; a large obsidian scrying mirror hung above it; and the fireplace built into the southern wall had various iron arms, presumably to hold cauldrons during spells. A royal suite, yes, but a workroom as well.
“I hate the sight of them,” the queen went on, the streetlights casting her beautiful face in golden hues. “Those uniforms. The silver darts on their collars.” He wondered how many people ever saw her so unguarded. “Rebel-hunters. That’s what they are.”
Indeed, where they walked, revelers fell silent. Tourists stopped snapping photos.
“Tell me how you really feel, Pax,” Tharion said, crossing his arms.
The queen whirled toward him. “I wish you’d stop using that nickname. Ever since the Summit—”
“Ever since then, you’ve missed me using it?” He gave her his most charming smile.
She rolled her eyes, but he caught the slight curl of her lips.
He asked, “Have you kept up the tally? How many times has Prince Ruhn gawked at you since you arrived?”
She flushed. “He doesn’t gawk.”
“I think our final tally at the Summit was … thirty? Forty?”
She whacked him on the chest.
“I missed you,” he said, grinning.
She grinned back. “What does your fiancée have to say about that?” She was one of the few people who knew. During their initial meeting at the Summit—an accidental encounter late one night when she’d sought some solitude at one of the mer’s subterranean pools and found him seeking the same—they’d spoken of their various … obligations. A friendship had immediately sprung up.
Tharion countered, “What does your fiancé have to say about it?”
The witch laughed softly, the sound like silver bells. “You’re the one who’s been associating with him. You tell me.”