Not to attack this world, but to defend Hel itself. To ally with any who’d stand against the Asteri.
“No,” Rigelus said. “Even Hel is not at the top of our list of those from whom we shall exact vengeance.” Again, that smile at Bryce. “The star on your chest—do you know what it is?”
“Let’s assume I know nothing,” Bryce said grimly.
Rigelus inclined his head. “It’s a beacon to the world from which the Fae originally came. It sometimes glows when nearest the Fae who have undiluted bloodlines from that world. Prince Cormac, for example.”
“It glowed for Hunt,” Bryce shot back.
“It also glows for those who you choose as your loyal companions. Knights.”
“So what?” Bryce demanded.
“So that star will lead us back to that world. Through you. They overthrew our brethren who once ruled there—we have not forgotten. Our initial attempt at revenge was foiled by your ancestor who also bore that star on her chest. The Fae have still not atoned for the deaths of our brothers and sisters. Their home world was rich in magic. I crave more of it.”
Bryce shook, but Hunt’s heart cracked as she squared her shoulders. “My bargain holds. You let Hunt and Ruhn go freely and unharmed—forever—and I’ll help you.”
“Bryce,” Ruhn pleaded, but Hunt knew there was no arguing with her.
“Fine,” Rigelus said, and smiled, triumph on every line of his lanky body. “You may say goodbye, as a sign of my gratitude for your assistance.”
Bryce turned to Hunt, and the terror and pain and grief on her gore-splattered face threatened to bring him to his knees. He slipped his chained hands around her head, pulling her close. Whispered in her ear. Her fingers bunched in his shirt, as if in silent confirmation.
So Hunt pulled back. Stared into his mate’s beautiful face for the last time.
He laughed softly, a sound of wonder at odds with the crystal throne room and the monsters in it. “I love you. I wish I’d said it more. But I love you, Quinlan, and …” His throat closed up, his eyes stinging. His lips brushed her brow. “Our love is stronger than time, greater than any distance. Our love spans across stars and worlds. I will find you again. I promise.”
He kissed her, and she shuddered, silently crying as her mouth moved against his own. He savored the warmth and taste of her, etching it into his soul.
Then he stepped back, and Bryce faced Ruhn.
She couldn’t do this.
Her heart was shattering; her bones were screaming that this was wrong, wrong, wrong.
She couldn’t leave them. Couldn’t go through with what Hunt had whispered to her.
She clung to her brother, unable to stop her sobbing. Even as a small weight dropped into her pocket.
But Ruhn whispered in her ear, “I lied to the Autumn King about what the Oracle told me as a boy.” She stilled. Ruhn went on, swift and urgent, “The Oracle told me that the royal line would end with me. That I am the last of the line, Bryce.” She tried to pull back to gape at him, but he held her firm. “But maybe she didn’t see that you would come along. That you would walk this path. You have to live. I can see it on your face—you don’t want to do any of this. But you have to live, Bryce. You have to be queen.”
She’d guessed what the Autumn King had done to Ruhn, how he’d tortured him as a boy, though she’d never confirmed it. And that debt … she’d make her sire repay it, someday.
“I don’t accept that,” Bryce breathed to Ruhn. “I don’t.”
“I do. I always have. Whether I die right now or whether I’m just infertile, I don’t know.” He chuckled. “Why do you think I partied so hard?”
She couldn’t laugh. Not about this. “I don’t buy that bullshit for one second.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
Then Ruhn said into her mind, Grab the Starsword when you go.
Ruhn—
It’s yours. Take it. You’ll need it. You got the chains unhooked?
Yes. She’d used the key the Hind had slipped her to unlock Hunt’s and Ruhn’s manacles while she held them.
Good. I told Athalar the signal. You’re ready?
No.
Ruhn pressed his brow against hers. We need armies, Bryce. We need you to go to Hel through that Gate, and bring Hel’s armies back with you to fight these bastards. But if Apollion’s cost is too high … don’t come back to this world.
Her brother pulled away. And Ruhn said, shining with pride, “Long live the queen.”
Bryce didn’t give the others a chance to puzzle it out.
She flicked her wrists, chains falling to the floor as she grabbed the Starsword from Ruhn and whirled toward Rigelus.
She plunged into her power in a blink. And before the Bright Hand could shout, she blasted him with starlight.
Hunt threw his chains to the ground the moment Ruhn said the word queen. And as his mate launched her blinding power at Rigelus, Hunt hurled his at the male, too.
Lightning struck the marble pillar just above the crystal throne.
It was a gamble: directing his initial blast of power at Rigelus, to keep him down, rather than charging up Bryce and risking an attack from Rigelus before it was done.
Behind them, shouting rose, and Hunt twisted to see Bryce running toward the doors, Starsword in hand.
Pollux lunged for her, but Baxian was there. He tackled the male to the crystal floor. Behind him, Mordoc was bleeding from a gash in his throat. The Hind was on the floor, unconscious. Had Baxian’s treachery been a surprise to her? Hunt supposed he didn’t care. Not as Baxian got Pollux down, and Bryce raced through the doors, out into the endless hallway. She turned left, red hair streaming behind her, and then she was gone.
Hunt whirled back toward Rigelus, but too late.
Power, hot and aching, blasted him into a nearby pillar. Glowing like a god, Rigelus leapt off the dais, the crystal floor splintering beneath him, and barreled after Bryce, death raging in his eyes.
Bryce’s heart cracked piece by piece with each step she ran from that throne room.
As she sped down the long hall, the busts of the Asteri damned her with their hateful faces.
A tidal wave of power rose behind her, and she dared a look over her shoulder to find Rigelus on her tail. He blazed white with magic, fury radiating from him.
Come on, Hunt. Come on, come on …
Rigelus sent out a blast of power, and Bryce zoomed left. The Asteri’s power smashed through a window, glass spraying. Bryce slipped on the shards, but kept running toward the arch at the end of the hall. The Gate she’d open to take her to Hel.
She’d take her chances with Aidas and Thanatos and Apollion. Get their armies and bring them back to Midgard.
Rigelus shot another spear of power, and Bryce ducked, sliding low just as it shattered a marble bust of Austrus. Fragments sliced her face, her neck, her arms, but then she was up and running again, clenching the Starsword so hard her hand ached.
The slide had cost her.
Rigelus was ten feet behind. Five. His hand stretched for her trailing hair.
Lightning speared down the hall, shattering windows and statues in its wake.
Bryce welcomed it into her heart, her back. Welcomed it into the tattoo there as Hunt’s power singed her very blood—and left it sparking.