“This is a deadly game. I’m not convinced the Asteri will want to play.”
“I know. But beyond that, Danika thought this intel might be important enough to send Sofie after it—to risk her life for it. If Sofie is dead, then someone else needs to secure that information.”
“It’s not your responsibility, Bryce.”
“It is.”
He wasn’t going to touch that one. Not yet. “And what about the kid?”
“We find him, too. I don’t give a shit if he’s powerful—he’s a kid and he’s caught up in this giant mess.” Her eyes softened, and his heart with them. Would Shahar have cared about the boy? Only in the way Ophion and the River Queen seemed to: as a weapon. Bryce asked, head tilting to the side, “And what about Cormac’s talk of freeing the world from the Asteri? That doesn’t hold any weight with you?”
“Of course it does.” He slid a hand over her waist, tugging her closer. “A world without them, without the Archangels and the hierarchies … I’d like to see that world one day. But …” His throat dried up. “But I don’t want to live in that world if the risk of creating it means …” Get it out. “If it means that we might not make it to that world.”
Her eyes softened once more, and her thumb stroked over his cheek again. “Same, Athalar.”
He huffed a laugh, bowing his head, but she lifted his chin with her other hand. His fingers tightened on her waist.
Bryce’s whiskey-colored eyes glowed in the muted light of the alley. “Well, since we’re dabbling in some seriously dangerous shit, now’s probably as good a time as any to admit I don’t want to wait until Winter Solstice.”
“For what?” Fuck, his voice had dropped an octave.
“This,” she murmured, and rose onto her toes to kiss him.
Hunt met her halfway, unable to contain his groan as he hauled her against him, lips finding hers at the same moment their bodies touched. He could have sworn the fucking world spun out from under him at the taste of her—
His head filled with fire and lightning and storms, and all he could think of was her mouth, her warm, luscious body, the aching of his cock pressing against his pants—pressing against her as her arms twined around his neck.
He was going to kick that wolf out of the apartment immediately.
Hunt twisted, pinning her against the wall, and her mouth opened wider on a gasp. He swept his tongue in, tasting the honeyed spice that was pure Bryce. She wrapped a leg around his waist, and Hunt took the invitation, hefting her thigh higher, pressing himself against her until they were both writhing.
Anyone might walk by the alley and see them. Lunchtime workers were streaming past. All it would take was one peek down the alley into the dusty shadows, one photograph, and this whole thing—
Hunt halted.
One photo, and her engagement to Cormac would be off. Along with the bargain Bryce had crafted with him.
Bryce asked, panting hard, “What’s wrong?”
“We, ah …” Words had become foreign. All thought had gone between his legs. Between her legs.
He swallowed hard, then gently backed away, trying to master his jagged breathing. “You’re engaged. Technically. You have to keep up that ruse with Cormac, at least in public.”
She straightened her dress, and—shit. Was that a lilac lace bra peeking out from the neckline? Why the fuck hadn’t he explored that just now? Bryce peered down the alley, lips swollen from his kisses, and some feral part of him howled in satisfaction to see that he had done that, he had brought that flush to her cheeks and wine-rich scent of arousal to her. She was his.
And he was hers. Utterly fucking hers.
“Are you suggesting we find a seedy motel instead?” Her lips curved, and Hunt’s cock throbbed at the sight, as if begging for her mouth to slide over him.
He let out a strangled noise. “I’m suggesting …” Hel, what was he suggesting? “I don’t know.” He blew out a breath. “You’re sure you want to do this now?” He gestured between them. “I know emotions are high after what we’ve learned. I …” He couldn’t look at her. “Whatever you want, Quinlan. That’s what I mean to say.”
She was silent for a moment. Then her hand slid over his chest, landing upon his heart. “What do you want? Why is it only what I want?”
“Because you were the one who mentioned waiting until solstice.”
“And?”
“And I want to make sure that you’re fully on board with ending our … agreement.”
“All right. But I also want to know what you want, Hunt.”
He met her golden stare. “You know what I want.” He couldn’t stop his voice from lowering again. “I’ve never stopped wanting it—wanting you. I thought it was obvious.”
Her heart was thundering. He could hear it. He glanced down at her ample chest and beheld a faint glimmering. “Your star …”
“Let’s not even get started on this thing,” she said, waving a hand at it. “Let’s keep talking about how much you want me.” She winked.
Hunt slung an arm around her shoulders, steering her back toward the bustling avenue. He whispered in her ear, “Why don’t I just show you later?”
She laughed, the star’s glow fading in the sunlight as they emerged onto the baking streets, and she slipped on her sunglasses and hat. “That’s what I want, Hunt. That is definitely what I want.”
18
Ithan rubbed at his face. This day had gotten … complicated.
“You look like you need a drink,” Tharion said as he strode to the apartment door. Ruhn had left a moment ago. Ithan supposed he’d sit on his ass for a good few hours and contemplate the epic mess he’d somehow landed in the middle of. That Bryce seemed intent on involving herself in.
“How long have you guys been doing all this shit?”
“You know what happened during the Summit, right?”
“Demons wrecked the city, killed a lot of people. Two Archangels died. Everyone knows that.”
Tharion’s brows rose. “You ever learn how Micah and Sandriel died?”
Ithan blinked, bracing himself.
Tharion’s expression was dead serious. “I am telling you this after I received a personal phone call from Rigelus three months ago, telling me to keep my mouth shut or I’d be killed, my parents with me. But as everything I’m doing these days seems to point toward that road anyway—you might as well know the truth, too. Since you’ll likely wind up dead with us.”
“Fantastic.” Ithan wished Perry had dumped him anywhere but this apartment.
Tharion said, “Hunt ripped Sandriel’s head from her shoulders after the Archangel threatened Bryce.”
Ithan started. He’d known Athalar was intense as shit, but killing an Archangel—
“And Bryce slaughtered Micah after he bragged about killing Danika and the Pack of Devils.”
Ithan’s body went numb. “I …” He couldn’t get a breath down. “Micah … what?”
By the time Tharion finished explaining, Ithan was shaking. “Why didn’t she tell me?” That packless wolf inside him was howling with rage and pain.