She hadn’t responded, but … Did the Asteri know one of their fiercest rebels stood before them, playing prince? Did they know how she’d helped him, worked with him? She supposed if they did, they’d all be dead.
“And I present her mate and consort, Prince Hunt Athalar,” the Autumn King was saying sharply, his disapproval palpable. He might very well kill her for this. If Cormac didn’t do it first.
But, according to Fae law, she was now Hunt’s property. Recognized in the past few minutes by both Archangels and the Asteri. If it made Hunt uncomfortable, if he resented his new title or the beings before him, he showed no sign as he bowed, his wing brushing over her back. “Hail the Asteri.”
“Rise,” the Asteri said, and so Bryce, Hunt, and her father did. There were so many eyes upon them. In this room, in that chamber in the Eternal City. Rigelus’s, especially, bore into her. He smiled slightly. Like he knew everything she’d done these weeks. Every rebel activity, every mutinous thought.
Bryce hated herself for lowering her gaze. Even as she knew Hunt stared Rigelus down.
But the Bright Hand of the Asteri said, “So many happy unions tonight. It is our wish that you all partake in the revelry. Go, and celebrate Death’s Day in peace.”
Everyone bowed again, and the screen went dark. More than a few people whimpered, as if they’d been holding in the sound.
No one spoke for several seconds as the lights brightened. Then the band began once more slightly off-tempo, like the musicians needed a minute to get their shit together. Even the Archangels were a little pale as they took their seats.
Bryce faced her father. The Autumn King said in a voice so low no one else could hear, “You little bitch.”
Bryce smiled broadly. “It’s ‘You little bitch, Your Highness.’ ” She stalked into the crowd. She didn’t miss Hunt smirking at the king, throwing him a wink that clearly said: Make a move and I’ll fry you, asswipe.
But she had to suck down a few long breaths as she halted at the edge of the dance floor, trying to regain her composure.
“You all right?” Hunt asked, gripping her shoulder.
“Yes, Your Highness,” she muttered.
He chuckled, and leaned to whisper in her ear, “I thought you only called me that in bed, Quinlan.” She did. You are my fucking prince, she’d panted last night as he drove his cock up into her.
Bryce leaned against him, shaking off the last of the Asteri’s ice. “I can’t believe we did it.”
Hunt let out a low laugh. “There’s going to be Hel to pay.” From her father. But tonight, he could do nothing. Here, in front of all these people, he could do nothing at all.
So Bryce said, “Dance with me?”
He raised a brow. “Really?”
“You do know how to dance, right?”
“Of course I do. But … It’s been a long while since I’ve danced with anyone.”
Since Shahar, probably. She interlaced their fingers. “Dance with me.”
The initial steps were stilted, hesitant. His arm slid around her waist, his other hand clutching hers as he led her into the sweet ballad coming from the band. With so many watching, it took a verse or two to get their rhythm.
Hunt murmured, “Just look at me, and fuck all the rest of them.”
His eyes shone with desire and joy, and that spark that was pure Hunt. The star on her chest gleamed, on full display. Someone gasped, but Bryce kept her attention on Hunt. He smiled again.
It was all that mattered, that smile. They fell into easy movement, and when Hunt spun her, she smiled back.
She whipped into his arms, and Hunt didn’t falter a step, sweeping her around the floor. She had the vague sense of Ruhn and Hypaxia dancing, Celestina and Ephraim, too, of Baxian and Naomi—Isaiah now with them—on guard by the doors, but she couldn’t look away from Hunt.
He pressed a kiss to her mouth. The entire universe melted away with it. It was only them, would only be them, dancing together, souls twining. “Everything that ever happened to me, it was all so I could meet you, Quinlan. Be here with you. I’m yours. Forever.”
Her throat tightened, and the star on her chest flared, lighting up the entire conservatory like a small moon. Bryce kissed him back, not caring who saw, only that he was here.
“Everything I am is yours,” she said against his lips.
Hypaxia seemed distracted as Ruhn danced with her, trying his best to avoid watching Hunt and Bryce make moon-eyes at each other. To avoid hearing the comments that trailed in their wake.