House of Sky and Breath (Crescent City)

“Either that or you desperately want in on the cool kids’ club.”

“A good spy would tell you no, and say you were being paranoid.”

“But you’re … not a good spy?”

“I’m not a spy at all, and you’re being paranoid.”

“But wherever you’re headed when this life is over, Quinlan, that’s where I want to be, too.”

He had little interest in history or politics or foreign languages, and his favorite subject in school had been lunch

“Everything that ever happened to me, it was all so I could meet you, Quinlan. Be here with you. I’m yours. Forever.”

“Someone who listens. Who thinks before acting. Who tries to understand different viewpoints. Who does what is right, even if the path is long and hard. Who will give a voice to the voiceless.”

Ruhn might have stepped inside to grab a piece of that pizza had Bryce not gone still.

A Fae sort of stillness, sizing up a threat. His every instinct went on high alert, bellowing at him to defend, to attack, to slaughter any threat to his family. Ruhn suppressed it, held back the shadows begging to be unleashed, to hide Bryce from sight.

Ithan called over to them, “Pizza’s on the counter if you want some.”

Bryce remained silent as fear washed over her scent. Ruhn’s fingers grazed the cool metal of the gun strapped to his thigh.

“Your cat’s a sweetheart, by the way,” Ithan went on, not taking his focus from the TV as he stroked the white cat curled on his lap. Bryce slowly shut the door behind her. “He scared the shit out of me when he leapt onto the counter a few minutes ago, the bastard.” The wolf ran his fingers through the luxurious coat, earning a deep purr in response.

The cat had stunning blue eyes. They seemed keenly aware as they fixed on Bryce.

Ruhn’s shadows gathered at his shoulders, snakes ready to strike. He subtly drew his gun.

Behind her, a familiar ripple of ether-laced power kissed over her skin. A small reassurance as Bryce croaked, “That’s not a cat.”

Hunt arrived at the apartment just in time to hear Bryce’s words through the shut front door. He was inside in a moment, his lightning gathered at his fingers.

“Oh, calm yourself,” the Prince of the Chasm said, leaping onto the coffee table.

Swearing, Ithan lunged from the couch and jumped over it with preternatural grace. Tharion went for a knife at his thigh, a wicked blade with a curved tip. Designed to do its worst damage on the way out.

Gross, Bryce.

Bryce tuned back into the conversation as Declan asked with a wicked smile that told her he was about to start shit, “So, who’s sleeping where in this apartment tonight?”

Bryce couldn’t help glancing again at Hunt, who kept his face wholly neutral as he said, “I’m bunking with Bryce.”

Bryce’s mouth popped open, but Ithan said, “Good. She snores.”

“Assholes,” Bryce seethed. “You can both go sleep on the roof.”

“Not enough distance from your snoring,” Ithan said, smirking.

Bryce scowled, leaning down to pet Syrinx’s velvety ears.

Hunt only winked. “I’ll get earplugs

And then, lids fluttering, like the Alpha fought for every inch toward awakening, the lost Fendyr heir opened her eyes

Please,” he said softly, head bowing. “My friends need me. My … my pack needs me.”

The male stepped forward, tucking in his wings. He smiled slightly and said in the Old Language, in a voice like glorious night, “Hello, Bryce Quinlan. My name is Rhysand.”