House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City) (81 page)

BOOK: House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City)
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Tharion drained the rest of his champagne.
She is allowed to have one glass of wine
, her mother had said in her letter via otter.
And she is to be home by one
.

Tharion finally glanced at his watch. Twelve twenty. Another fifteen minutes and he could start ushering her toward the door. He handed his flute to a passing server, but found his companion’s expression had turned dangerously pouty.

He offered her a charming, bland smile, but she said, “You do not seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“I am,” he assured her, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Your friends do not come to speak with us.”

Well, considering that he’d seen Bryce and Hunt slip off somewhere, that was no surprise. Ithan was chatting with Naomi Boreas and the Helhound at the doors, and the others … Ruhn and Cormac had bailed. No sign of Hypaxia.

Though the witch-queen had already come to speak with them. He’d had a hard time meeting her gaze throughout the awkward conversation, while she could see how stupid he’d been in tying himself to this female. But Hypaxia had been kind to the River Queen’s daughter, who herself had been all smiles. Tharion hadn’t dared call her Pax.

“My friends have a lot of glad-handing to do,” he hedged.

“Oh.” She fell silent, lurking on the edge of the dance floor as couples swept past. Maybe it was all the champagne, but he really looked at her: the dark eyes full of longing and quiet happiness, the eager energy buzzing from her, the sense that she was some creature crafted into mortal form only for this night, and would dissolve into river silt as soon as the clock struck one.

Was he any better than her mother? He’d been stringing this girl along for ten years now. Had held her back tonight because
he
didn’t feel like enjoying himself.

She must have felt the weight of his stare, because she twisted to him. Tharion offered her another bland smile, then turned to one of the bodyguards lurking in the shadows behind them. “Hey, Tritus, can you take over for this dance?”

The guard glanced between them, but Tharion smiled down at the River Queen’s daughter, whose brows were raised. “Go dance,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.” He didn’t let her object before handing her off to the guard, who was actually blushing as he extended his arm.

And Tharion didn’t look back as he strode off into the crowd, wondering how much shit he’d be in for this. But … even if he was flayed for it, he wasn’t going to string her along any further.

He paused on the outskirts of the crowd, finally turning to see the guard and the River Queen’s daughter dancing, both of them smiling. Happy.

Good. She deserved that. Mother or not, temper or not, she deserved someone to make her happy.

Tharion made his way over to the nearest open bar, and was about to order a whiskey when he noticed a curvy female—a leopard shifter from the scent of her—lounging against the counter beside him.

He’d always noticed a good ass, and this female … Hel yes.

“Come here often?” he asked her with a wink. The leopard turned her head toward him, light brown skin radiant in the soft lights. Her eyes were thick-lashed, utterly gorgeous above high cheekbones and full lips, all of it framed by golden-brown hair that fell around her heart-shaped face in soft waves. She had the ease and grace of a movie star. Probably was one, if she was important enough to be here. That full mouth curled in a smile. “Is that your attempt at a pickup line?”

He knew that sultry tone. So Tharion ordered his whiskey and said to the stranger, “You want it to be?”

 

61

“Are you all right?” Ithan asked Hypaxia as the clock neared three thirty in the morning. She’d complained of some stomach cramps and had left the party for about twenty minutes, returning pale-faced.

The witch-queen now tucked a dark curl behind her ear, then adjusted the fall of her jet-black robes, having pulled them over her gown moments before. Even standing in the small clearing of an olive grove nestled in the hills beyond the city, the sounds of revelry reached them: booming bass, cheering, strobing lights. A far cry from the whispering leaves and dry ground around him, the stars glinting beyond the silvery canopy.

Another world away from that glittering party where so many powers had come together tonight. Where Bryce had somehow outmaneuvered the Autumn King and had declared Hunt her prince. He hadn’t known what to think in that moment.

He’d done his best to stay the fuck away from Sabine and Amelie tonight. Thankfully, they had been present only long enough to see the Asteri speak, then left. He hated himself for being so relieved about it. The Prime hadn’t attended—he usually avoided such functions.

“So this is it?” Ithan asked Hypaxia, gesturing with a hand to
the seven candles she’d arranged on the ground. “Light the candles and wait?”

Hypaxia drew out a long dagger. “Not quite,” she said, and Ithan kept a step back as she used the knife to draw lines between the candles.

Ithan angled his head. “A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center.

“It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.” Her face became grave. “It is in that place of balance where I’ll focus my power.” She motioned to the circle. “No matter what you see or hear, stay on this side of the candles.”

A chill went up Ithan’s spine, even as his heart lightened. If he could just talk to Connor … He’d thought over and over about what he’d say, but he couldn’t remember any of it.

Hypaxia read whatever lay in his gaze, her face again solemn.

But a bargain was a bargain. Hypaxia lifted both arms, holding the dagger aloft, and began chanting.

Day appeared far down the bridge and stayed there, like she didn’t want to come near him.

Ruhn sat on his couch, forearms on his knees. He’d been reeling from what had gone down in the garden for hours now. Was surprised he’d even fallen asleep in his physical body.

He rushed to her. “I’m sorry I endangered you.”

Day said nothing. Just stood there, burning.

He tried again. “I … It was a really dumb idea. I’m sorry if you showed and I wasn’t there. I got to the garden and the Harpy and the Hind had trailed me, and I think they might have suspected me, or I don’t know, but I’m … I’m so sorry, Day.”

“I was there,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“I saw you,” she said, and stalked forward. “Saw the threat, too. And stayed away.”

“Where? In the garden?”

She came closer. “I saw you,” she said again. Like she was still processing it.

“You came.” He shook his head. “I thought you might not have, and we didn’t talk since we made that plan, and I was worried—”

“Ruhn.” His name on her lips rocked through him.

He shuddered. “You know who I am.”

“Yes.”

“Say my name again.”

She came closer. “Ruhn.” Her flames parted enough for him to get a glimpse of a smile.

“Are you still in the city? Can I meet you somewhere?” It was the middle of the night—but it was the equinox. People would be partying until dawn. But they’d be masked—he and Day could fit right in.

“No.” Her voice flattened. “I’m gone.”

“Liar. Tell me where you are.”

“Did you learn nothing tonight? Did you not see how close we came to disaster? The Asteri’s servants are everywhere. One mistake, even for a moment, and we are
dead
.”

His throat worked. “When the Harpy came out of the shadows, I thought she was you. I … I panicked for a moment.”

A quiet laugh. “That would have been awful for you? To have me be someone you hate so much?”

“It would take some adjustment.”

“So you do have a notion of what you expect me to be like.”

“I don’t. I just … don’t want you to be
her
.”

Another laugh. “And you’re a Fae Prince.”

“Does it gross you out?”

“Should it?”

“It grosses me out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve done nothing to deserve that title.”

She studied him. “The Autumn King is your father. The one who hurt you.”

“The one and only.”

“He’s a disgrace of a king.”

“You should talk to my sister. I think she’d like you.”

“Bryce Quinlan.”

He tensed at her knowing Bryce’s name so readily, but if she’d been at the party tonight, she’d know without a doubt. “Yeah. She hates my father even more than I do.”

But Day’s flame dimmed. “You’re engaged to Queen Hypaxia.”

He almost laughed it off, but her voice was so grave. “It’s complicated.”

“You danced with her like it wasn’t.”

“You saw me?”

“Everyone saw you.”

That sharpness in her voice … was it jealousy? He said carefully, “I’m not the two-timing sort. Hypaxia and I are betrothed in name only. I don’t even know if we’ll marry. She has as little attachment to me as I do to her. We like and admire each other, but … that’s about it.”

“Why should I care?”

He studied her, then took a step closer, until only a handsbreadth separated them. “I wanted to see you tonight. I spent the entire time watching the clock.”

Her breathing hitched. “Why?”

“So I could do this.” Ruhn lifted her chin and kissed her. The mouth beneath the fire was soft, and warm, and opened for him.

Flaming fingers twined through his hair, tugging him close, and Ruhn slid his arms around a slim, curving body, hands feeling her ample backside. Fuck yes.

His tongue brushed over hers, and she shuddered in his arms. But she met him stroke for stroke, as if she couldn’t hold back, as if she wanted to know every inch of him, his every taste and nuance.

Her hand slid along his jaw, fingers exploring the shape of his face. He willed his night to pull back to show his eyes, his
nose, his mouth. Thankfully, it obeyed him. Beyond the veil of flame covering her features, he could feel her watching him. Seeing his bared face.

Her fingers traced the bridge of his nose. The bow of his lips. Then she kissed him again, with sheer abandon, and Ruhn gave himself entirely to it.

“You remind me that I’m alive,” she said, voice thick. “You remind me that goodness can exist in the world.”

His throat ached. “Day—”

But she hissed, stiffening against his grip. She glanced back toward her end of the bridge.

No. That male who’d once dragged her from sleep to have sex with her—

Day whipped her head back to Ruhn and the flame rippled, revealing pleading eyes of solid fire. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and vanished.

Hunt was still drunk when he and Bryce returned to the apartment at three in the morning. She carried her heels in one hand, the train of her dress in the other. They’d left the party soon after Ruhn had bailed, and headed to a dive bar in the heart of the Old Square, where they’d proceeded to play pool and drink whiskey in their ridiculous finery.

They didn’t talk about what they’d discovered in the cloakroom. What more was there to say?

“I’m plastered,” Bryce announced to the dim apartment, slumping onto the couch.

Hunt chuckled. “Very princess-ish.”

She removed her earrings, chucking the diamonds onto the coffee table as if they were cheap costume jewelry. The comb in her hair followed, gems glinting in the soft firstlights.

She stretched out her legs, bare feet wiggling on the coffee table. “Let’s never do that again.”

“The whiskey or outsmarting your father or the party?” Hunt
tugged his white bow tie free of its knot as he approached the couch and peered down at her.

She huffed a laugh. “The party. Outsmarting my father and the whiskey will
always
be a repeat activity.”

Hunt sat on the coffee table, adjusting his wings around it. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“Yeah. Though I can’t think of anything much worse than gaining multiple enemies for the price of one.” That the Asteri’s appearance had only been a footnote said plenty about their night. “Though Celestina isn’t our enemy, I guess.”

Hunt picked up one of her feet and began rubbing the insole. She sighed, sinking back into the cushions. Hunt’s cock stirred at the pure pleasure she radiated.

“Can I tell you something?” Hunt said, massaging the arch of her foot. “Something that might be deemed alphahole-ish?”

“As long as you keep rubbing my foot like that, you can say whatever the Hel you want.”

Hunt laughed. “Deal.” He picked up her other foot, starting on that one. “I liked being at the party tonight. Despite all the fancy clothes and the Asteri and the stuff with Hypaxia and Celestina. Despite all the prince bullshit. I liked being seen. With you.”

Her mouth quirked to the side. “You liked staking your territory?”

“Yeah.” He let her see the predator in him. “I’ve never had that with anyone.”

She frowned. “Shahar never showed you off?”

“No. I was her general. At public functions, we didn’t appear together. She never wanted that. It would have positioned me as an equal, or at least someone she deemed … important.”

“I thought your movement was all about equality,” Bryce said, frown deepening.

“It was. But we still had to play by the old rules.” Rules that continued to govern and dictate people’s lives. Celestina’s and Hypaxia’s lives.

“So she never came out and said,
Hey, world! He’s my boyfriend!

Hunt laughed, and marveled that he did so. He’d never thought he’d be able to laugh about anything related to Shahar. “No. It’s why I was so … honored when you asked me to do this.”

Bryce studied him. “Do you want to go outside so we can get caught fooling around in public by the press? That’ll make us
really
official.”

“Maybe another time.” Hunt lifted her foot to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the instep. “So, we’re, like … married.”

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