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House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City, #3)(130)

Author:Sarah J. Maas

Baxian kept his eyes on the weights he’d been lifting. “I needed to get in here for a bit.”

“Why?”

“Bad thoughts” was all Baxian said.

“Ah.” Likely ones that included the taste of Ruhn’s blood in his mouth. Hunt silently stepped behind the bench, within reach of the bar as Baxian lifted it again, arms shaking. He easily had six hundred pounds on it. “What number is this?”

“Eighty,” Baxian grunted, arms straining, wings splayed beneath him. Hunt took it upon himself to guide the bar back to its posts. “I want to get to a hundred.”

“Baby steps, buddy.”

Baxian panted up at the ceiling, then his eyes slid toward Hunt, watching him upside down. “What’s up?”

“Just checking in on a friend.”

“I’m fine,” Baxian said, curling upward and bracing his hands on his thighs. His wings drooped to the black plastic tiles.

Hunt knew it was a lie, but he nodded anyway. If Baxian wanted to talk, he’d talk.

He’d told Baxian everything while they’d lain in the medwitch’s room yesterday, in between stitches and potions and pain. Told him about Bryce, and the Hind, and all the shit they’d learned.

Baxian had taken it well, though he clearly remained in shock about the Hind’s involvement. Hunt didn’t blame him. He still had trouble believing it himself. But Baxian had been working with Lidia for even longer than Hunt—it’d probably take longer to adjust his image of her.

Baxian nodded to Hunt’s face. “Any luck getting that shit removed?”

Hunt didn’t dare look at the wall of mirrors behind the Helhound. Hadn’t been able to stand the sight of his face with that halo once again marring his brow. He could have sworn its ink seared him every now and then. It had never done that before—but this halo, inked by Rigelus, felt different. Worse. Alive, somehow.

“No,” Hunt said. “Hypaxia Enador got rid of it the last time. So unless there’s a witch-queen hiding on this ship, I’ve gotta learn to live with it for the time being.”

“Rigelus is a fucking asshole. Always was.” Baxian wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

Hunt angled his head. “What changed with you, really? Is this new Baxian Argos just the result of learning Danika was your mate?”

It was a potential minefield, to bring up his dead mate. To lose a mate was to lose half of your soul; to live without them was torture.

“I don’t want to talk about the past,” Baxian said, wings snapping in tight to his body, and Hunt let it drop.

“Then let’s talk about next steps,” Hunt said, folding his own wings with a lingering whisper of tightness. Another day and he’d be totally back to normal.

“What’s there to talk about? Big picture: the Asteri have to go.”

Hunt snorted. “Glad we’re on the same page.” He could only pray that Tharion was able to get Sendes to contact the Ocean Queen—and that she might be on the same page as them, too.

He surveyed the male he thought he’d known for so many years. “Is it too much to hope that some of Sandriel’s old triarii might also be secret anti-imperialists?”

“Don’t push your luck. Two’s already huge. Three, if we include you.”

Thankfully, he’d never been in her actual triarii—just had to put up with their shit while surviving the years he’d been shackled to Sandriel. Hunt ignored the familiar shiver of dread at the memory of those years and asked, “But you and Lidia never had any idea that you both were—”

“No. None. I thought she was no better than Pollux.” Baxian wiped more sweat from his brow, his breath steadying. “You think Lidia will make it?”

Hunt rubbed his jaw. “I hope so. We need her.”

“For what?”

Hunt gave his old enemy—now friend, he supposed—a slash of a smile. “To make these fuckers pay for what they’ve done.”

* * *

Tharion told himself to snap out of it. To focus on the fact that, against all odds, they’d succeeded in rescuing their friends from the Asteri dungeons—had even gone a step beyond and saved Lidia Cervos from certain death.

It didn’t matter, though. Holstrom had stayed behind. Holstrom, whose life Tharion had wrecked.

And not only Holstrom’s life, but the future of the wolves, too. That Fendyr heir was dead because of him. Technically because of Holstrom, but … none of it would have happened if it weren’t for Tharion’s own choices.