“Absolutely fucking not.”
Apollion chuckled, low and lethal. “What a disappointment.” The plain that had been Parthos began to fade into nothing. “Come find me in Hel when you learn the truth.”
Ithan pivoted slowly, eyeing the shadows where the Under-King had stood—and vanished.
“Don’t move from this spot,” Hypaxia warned him, voice low. “I can feel his power all around us. He’s turned this clearing into a labyrinth of wards.”
Ithan sniffed, as if it’d give him some sense of what the Hel she was talking about. But nothing appeared to have changed. No creatures jumped out at them. Still, he said, “I’ll follow your lead.”
Hypaxia scanned the sky. “He warded above us, too. To keep us grounded.” She crinkled her nose. “Right. On foot it is.”
Ithan swallowed. “I, ah … got your back?”
She chuckled. “Just keep up, please.”
He gave her a determined smile. “You got it.”
Ithan braced himself as Hypaxia took a step forward, hand extended. Her fingers recoiled at whatever ward she encountered, right as a low snarl sounded from the trees beyond.
The hair on his neck rose. His wolf senses told him it wasn’t an animal’s snarl. But it sounded … hungry.
Another one rippled from nearby. Then another. All around them.
“What is that?” Ithan breathed, even his Vanir eyes failing to pierce the darkness.
Hypaxia’s hands glowed white-hot with magic. She didn’t take her gaze off the trees ahead of them. “The hunting hounds of the House of Flame and Shadow,” she said grimly before slamming her hand against the ward in front of them.
63
“He was a micromanaging fucking nightmare,” Bryce ranted the next day as she stood with Hunt, Ruhn, and Declan in the Aux training center during her lunch break. Tharion lay sprawled on a bench against the wall, napping. Cormac, standing across the space, frowned.
Her brother was pale. “You really think Theia and a bunch of Fae sided with Hel during the war?”
Bryce suppressed a shiver of cold at the memory. “Who knows what’s true?”
Across the vast, empty room, Hunt rubbed his jaw. She hadn’t even mentioned what Apollion had said—that little tidbit about Hunt being bred. She’d tackle that later. Hunt mused, “What’s the benefit in convincing us of a lie? Or the truth, either, I suppose. All that matters is that Hel is definitely on the move.”
Declan said, “Can we pause for a moment and remark on the fact that both of you have spoken to the Prince of the Pit? Is no one else about to puke at the thought?”
Ruhn held up a hand, and Tharion lazily lifted one from the bench, but Bryce high-fived Hunt. “Special kids club,” she said to the angel, who winked at her. She leapt back a step, rallying her power. “Again.” They’d been in here for twenty minutes already, practicing.
Hunt’s lightning flared at his fingertips, and Bryce set her feet apart. “Ready?” he asked.
Tharion roused himself enough to turn over, propping his head on a fist. Bryce scowled at him, but the mer only waggled his brows in encouragement.
She faced Hunt again, right as the angel hurled his lightning at her like a spear. It zinged against her chest, a direct hit, and then she was glowing, power singing, soaring—
Two feet in front of the windows.
She’d no sooner thought the command than she appeared across the space. Exactly two feet from the windows. Back to a foot before Hunt.
She appeared before him, so suddenly that he staggered back.
Ruhn. She moved again, slower this time. But her brother yelped.
Declan braced himself, like he thought he’d be next, so Bryce thought, A foot behind Hunt.
She pinched her mate’s butt so fast he didn’t have time to whirl before she’d moved again. This time in front of Declan, who cursed when she poked him in the ribs, then teleported once more.
Cormac called from where he’d been standing in the far corner, “You’re slowing.” She was. Damn it, she was. Bryce rallied her power, Hunt’s energy. She appeared in front of Tharion’s bench, but the mer was waiting.
Fast as a striking shark, Tharion grabbed her face and planted a smacking kiss on her lips.
Hunt’s laugh boomed across the space, and Bryce joined him, batting the mer away.
“Too slow, Legs,” Tharion drawled, leaning back against the bench and crossing an ankle over a knee. He draped an arm along the back of the plastic bench. “And too predictable.”
“Again,” Cormac ordered. “Focus.”
Bryce tried, but her bones weighed her down. Tried again to no avail. “I’m out.”
“Concentrate, and you could hold on longer. You use too much at once, and don’t reserve the energy for later.”
Bryce put her hands on her hips as she panted. “Your teleporting works differently than mine. How can you know that?”
“Mine comes from a source of magic, too. Energy, just a different form. Each jump takes more out of me. It’s a muscle that you need to build up.”
She scowled, wiping her brow as she walked back over to Hunt.
“It does seem like he’s right,” Declan said to Bryce. “Your teleporting works when your power gets charged up by energy—considering what I heard about how quickly you ran out of steam with Hypaxia, Hunt’s is the best form of it.”
“Damn right it is,” Hunt growled, earning a smack on the arm from Bryce.
“Do you think the power will … stay in me if I don’t use it?” she asked Dec.
“I don’t think so,” Dec said. “Your power came from the Gate—with a shit-ton of firstlight mixed in. So your magic—beyond the light, I mean—needs to be powered up. It relies on firstlight, or any other form of energy it can get. You’re literally a Gate: you can take in power and offer it. But it seems the similarity ends there. The Gates can store power indefinitely, while yours clearly peters out after a while.” He faced Hunt. “And your power, Athalar, as pure energy, is able to draw from her, like she did from the Gate. Bryce, when you draw from a source, it’s the same way the Gates zap power from people using them to communicate.”
Bryce blinked. “So I’m like some magical leech?”
Declan laughed. “I think only of certain kinds of magic. Forms of pure energy. Throw in the Horn, which relies on a blast of power to activate it …”
“And you’re a liability,” Ruhn said darkly. Tharion grunted his agreement.
Declan rubbed his chin. “You told Ruhn after the attack that Hypaxia aimed for your scar to supercharge your powers, right? I wonder what would happen if you were struck on the Horn.”
“Let’s not find out,” Bryce said quickly.
“Agreed,” Cormac said from across the room. He pointed to the obstacle course he’d laid out in the center of the space. “Back to work. Follow the track.”
Bryce pivoted toward the Avallen Prince, and said as casually as she could, “I’m shocked you’re even here.”
Cormac said icily, “Because you decided to end our engagement without consulting me?”
Hunt muttered to her, “Anything to avoid your exercises, huh?”