To her surprise, both princes returned the gesture.
With a ripple of thought and power, she closed the Rift. Locked it securely, leaving no cracks to slip through. Though the Asteri were gone, all their crystal Gates throughout Midgard remained intact. But for now, at least this particular Gate was shut completely. At long last.
“Looks like your demon-hunting days might be over,” she said to Hunt.
Her mate grinned down at her, and kissed her gently, and even the frigid winds of Nena seemed to warm around them. “Guess I should file for unemployment.”
* * *
Tharion Ketos stood on the outskirts of the Meat Market, looking for his wife.
Thanks to the water sprites in her employ, the Viper Queen had apparently been able to put out the blazing main building before the fire had spread, leaving the bulk of the Meat Market’s interconnected warehouses intact.
Indeed, it seemed as if it was business as usual—albeit already adjusted to a new world. From the back of a truck, shady-looking grunts unloaded cannisters glowing with firstlight. Already stocking up on a product that would soon be in high demand.
Tharion didn’t really know why he’d come here, when Sendes had informed him that the Ocean Queen had forgiven his disobedience. In fact, she’d made him a perfectly good offer to be a commander in her forces and work aboard the Depth Charger, but he’d found himself saying he had something to do first.
And then made his way back here.
The world was in upheaval. The Asteri were gone, but there was an Imperial Senate to contend with, and Archangels, and the various House Heads, and … maybe he should have stayed on that ship.
He didn’t know why he had expected peace and comfort. Why he’d thought everyone would be happy and just … chill. But there were plenty of greedy fucks out there in the world, who were happy to use the shake-up to grab for power.
And he knew that the fuck who ruled the Meat Market was probably one of them. He’d have to contend with her at some point, probably someday soon.
But right now he needed to find his wife. Just to make sure she was okay. Then he could be on his way. Go to the Depth Charger. Or do something else, he didn’t know. He figured Ogenas would guide him at some point. Maybe help him figure out his mess of a life.
Tharion slipped on the hood of his sweatshirt, checking that the gun concealed at his side was secure and ready, and walked into the warren of the Meat Market. To whatever Urd had in store for him.
He only made it one block before a female voice said from the shadows, “You have to be ten kinds of dumb to go back in there.”
He halted, peering into the alley from which the voice had spoken. Two crimson eyes smoldered in the darkness.
Tharion inclined his head. “Hello, Ariadne.”
102
Bryce stood in the foyer of the Autumn King’s villa, surveying the field of flashing cameras, the haughty Fae nobility, and the confused-looking guards glancing between her and the crowd.
For the occasion, she’d chosen a pink dress that she knew drove Hunt to distraction. It had been either that or leggings and a T-shirt, and given that she wanted to avoid anything taking away from what she was actually doing, she’d opted for formal.
Of course, settling on the pink dress had been an ordeal in itself. There was now a giant heap of clothing in her bedroom for her to put away when she got home, which was incentive enough to draw this out for as long as possible.
But she took one look at Sathia and Flynn’s sneering parents, the Lord and Lady Hawthorne having recently returned from Avallen, and decided to Hel with waiting. To Hel with all the other Fae nobility who had gathered at her invitation this morning.
She’d set foot in the city late last night, had gone right to the ruins of Asphodel Meadows, and called for this meeting the next day.
She would have done it last night, but Hunt had told her to take the time to sort out what she wanted to say. To let Marc get the paperwork ready.
The leopard shifter and Declan now stood beside the desk that had been hauled into the foyer, Ruhn and Flynn with them.
She glanced to Hunt, and he nodded subtly. It was time.
So Bryce stepped up to the desk and said to the cameras, to the Fae aristocrats, “I’ll make this short and sweet, for all the busy nobles here who have to get back to champagne lunches and spa treatments.”
Silence, and a frantic clicking of cameras. The videographers pressed in closer, angling their mics to pick up her every breath. One of the camera guys—a draki male—was smirking.
But Bryce kept her gaze on the cameras, on the world listening. “This is my first and only decree as the Fae Queen of Valbara and Avallen: the royal houses are ended.”