Hunt Athalar Quotes

I've got you," he murmured. "Sweetheart, I've got you.

The power shall always belong to those who give their lives to the city.

I heard what you said.' Pump, pump, pump went his powerful arms. 'What you waiting to admit until I was almost dead, you fucking coward.' His lightening surged into her, sending her body arcing off the ground as he tried to jump-start her heart. He snarled in her ear, 'Now come say it to my face.

Want to count my abs when we get home from the ballet?

It couldn't be. It... it couldn't be. Bryce and Hunt were frozen with shock. Ruhn whispered, "Day?" Lidia Cervos looked over a shoulder. And she said with quiet calm in a voice he knew like his own heartbeat, a voice he had never once heard her use as the Hind, "Night.

It means that he’s going ballistic in the way that only mates can when the other is threatened. It’s what happened then, and what’s happening now. You’re true mates—the way Fae are mates, in your bodies and souls. That’s what was different about your scent the other day. Your scents have merged. As they do between Fae mates.

Hunt." The entire world went quiet. "I was waiting for you." "Bryce, sweetheart, just get back to your apartment and give me an hour and-" "No," she whispered, closing her eyes. She put her hand on her chest. Over her heart. "I was waiting for you- in here." Hunt couldn't stop his own tears then. "I was waiting for you, too.

She whispered, "I'm scared." Danika grabbed her hand again. "That's the point of it, Bryce. Of Life. To live, to love, knowing that it might all vanish tomorrow. It makes everything that much more precious.

-It's illegal. -Are you quoting the motto of the Meat Market, or trying to tell me that you somehow don't have precisely what I need?

Isaiah coughed. "You watched Quinlan for one night." "Ten hours, to be exact. Right until her pet chimera just appeared next to me at dawn, bit me in ass for looking like I was dozing off, and then vanished again - right back into the apartment. Just as Quinlan came out of her bedroom and opened the curtains to see me grabbing my own ass like a f***ing idiot. Do you know how sharp a chimera's teeth are?

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.

Prince Hunt Athalar Danaan. He would have hated the last name were it not for the fact that it was a marker of her ownership over his soul, his heart.

Those look like broken ribs," Hunt said wryly. "Definitely broken ribs, Athalar," Bryce replied, sitting back on her heels. "And a broken arm, from the way he's cradling it." "Skull fracture's healed," Hunt observed with equal distance, as if they were on one of his favorite Vanir crime show procedurals. Ithan's eyes flashed again. "I'm sensing hostility and a good dose of male pride," Bryce said. "Throw in some stubbornness and I'd say we've got a classic case of stupidity," Hunt answered. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?" Ithan demanded.

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.

Fry this fucker,” Bryce muttered to Hunt as the dog snarled. “I’m assessing.” “Assess faster. Roast it like a—” “Do not make a joke about—” “Hot dog.

Bryce barely heard the woman as she nodded. Barely heard anything beyond Hunt's lingering words. I've got you. Her fingers curled around his. She let her eyes tell him everything her ravaged throat couldn't. I've got you, too.

Come on,' he repeated, pumping her chest again with his hands. 'I'm waiting for you.' He'd been waiting for her from the moment he'd been born. And as if she'd heard him, Bryce exploded into life.

Why,' she asked Bryce, 'is Hunt Athalar your roommate?' 'He was booted from the 33rd for his questionable fashion sense,' she said munching on the croissant. 'I told him his boring black clothes don't bother me, and let him stay here.

...I realised all this was the wrong path. But you and me, Bryce... You are where I want to end up. A life- with you. You are my fucking path.

He said after a while, "You traded your resting place in the Bone Quarter for Danika's." "Given what happens to everyone over there, I feel kind of relieved about that now." "Yeah." He took one of her hands in his and laid their interlaced fingers atop his heart. "But wherever you're headed when this life is over, Quinlan, that's where I want to be, too.

It'd be safer not to go at all, but here we are, going," Hunt said. Ruhn wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself as the angel crossed the room and knelt before Bryce, grabbing her hands. "I want a future with you. That's why I'm going. I'm going to fight for that future." His sister's eyes softened. Hunt kissed her hands. "And to do so, we can't play by other people's rules.

It's almost out," the witch hissed, grunting with effort. "Hang on, Bryce." She did. To Hunt, to his hand, to that softness in his eyes, she held on. With all she had. "I've got you," he murmured. "Sweetheart, I've got you." He'd never said it like that before- that word. It had always been mocking, teasing. She'd always found it just this side of annoying. Not this time. Not when he held her hand and her gaze and everything she was. Riding out the pain with her. "Breathe," he ordered her. "You can do it. We can get through this." Get through it- together. Get through this mess of a life together. Through this mess of a world.

This sunball-watching person doesn't fit with my mental image of the Shadow of Death.' 'Sorry to disappoint.' Hunt's turn to lift a brow. 'What do you think I do with my spare time?' 'I don't know. I assumed you cursed at the stars and brooded and plotted revenge on all your enemies.

What sort of an afterward for you and me do you have in mind, Athalar?' He didn't balk from her searching gaze. 'The good kind,' he said with equal quiet.

I've got you,' he murmured. 'Sweetheart, I've got you.

I don't need a male telling me when to eat.' 'How about a friend telling you that you had an understandably rough night, and you get mean as shit when you're hungry?

Hunt's fingers stroked over her brow. 'I thought to myself, There's someone I want guarding my back. There's a friend I'd live to have. I think I gave you such a hard time when we met up again because... because some part of me knew that, and was afraid of what it'd mean.

Bryce explained everything again, and Hunt couldn't keep himself from tugging her closer. When she finished, Ruhn echoed Hunt's words. "We got lucky tonight. You got lucky tonight." Bryce winked at Hunt. "And I plan to get lucky again." "Gross," Ruhn said as Declan snickered.

Stop cursing so much. You're upsetting Syrinx.' He leaned close enough to note gold flecks in her amber eyes. 'You have the dirtiest mouth I've ever heard, sweetheart. And from the way you act, I think you might be the alphahole here.

I don't see how I can move on from loving her when she gave up everything for me. For the cause.' He shook his head. 'Every time I hook up, I remember it.

Want to come play Scary Asshole with me?' Despite everything, despite the Asteri's watching and all that had occurred, Bryce smiled. 'I have just the outfit.

I'd think cuddling in front of the TV allowed me to at least be able to voice my opinions without getting my head bitten off.

Hunt leaned forward putting his cool brow against hers. 'I've known who you were this whole time. I never forgot you.

Hyrieus,” Aidas answered. “He was a good male, Hunt Athalar. As you are.

She’d seen more than her fair share of cut, beautiful male bodies, but Hunt Athalar’s blew them all away.

When you nail Hunt Athalar’s balls to the wall, will you do me a favor and take a picture?

I'm sorry I dumped my baggage in your lap.' A corner of his mouth turned up. 'You can dump your baggage in my lap anytime, Quinlan.' She snorted, shaking her head. 'You made it sound gross.' 'You said it first.

Ruhn said to her, “I asked you to come. Not him.” Bryce linked her arm through Athalar’s, the portrait they painted laughable: Bryce in her fancy work dress and heels, the angel in his black battle-suit. “We’re joined at the hip now, unfortunately for you. Best, best friends.” “The best,” Hunt echoed, his grin unfading.

Boyfriend sounds weird for you. It's so... young. But what else is there?' If he had a star on his chest, Hunt knew it'd be glowing as he asked. 'Partner?' 'Not sexy enough.' 'Lover?' 'Does that come with a ruff and a lute?' He swept a wing over her bare thigh. 'Anyone ever tell you that you're a pain in the ass?' 'Just ye olde lover.

She laid he palm over his thundering heart. 'Did you just call me a fucking coward?' Hunt tipped his head to the stars and laughed. 'So what if I did?' She angled her face closer to his. 'Too bad all that healing firstlight didn't turn you into a decent person.' 'Where would the fun be in that, Quinlan?

Hunt.' The entire world went quiet. 'I was waiting for you.' 'Bryce, sweetheart, just get back to your apartment and give me an hour and-' 'No,' she whispered, closing her eyes. She put her hand on her chest. Over her heart. 'I was waiting for you- in here.' Hunt couldn't stop his own tears then. 'I was waiting for you, too.

The Hawk smiled up at Baxian. “How about we start with your tongue today, traitor?” To Baxian’s credit, he stuck out his tongue toward the Hawk in invitation. Hunt smirked. Yeah—they were all in this together. To the bitter end. The Hawk cut his stare toward Hunt. “You’ll be next, Athalar.” “Come and get it,” Hunt gasped. Ruhn extended his tongue as well.

Don't let the books sweet-talk you into taking them home.

Look at you,' he breathed. 'Bryce.' 'Look at us,' she whispered, and lifted up to kiss him.

I love you. You're crazy and shady as all Hel, but I love you.

The answer,' Hunt went on, 'is with me. Anywhere you or I go, we go together from now on. Got it?

I can handle myself-' 'I can't fucking handle myself, Quinlan. Not if you might be in danger.

She had brought joy, and laughter, and love, had pried him free of that cold, dark existence and pulled him into the light. Her light. He wouldn't let it be extinguished.

Do you want to go outside so we can get caught fooling around in public by the press? That'll make us really official.

Please tell me you don't have a foot fetish.' 'No. But everything where you're involved is a fetish for me.

Don't worry about that shit. We focus on the now, then deal with everything else afterward.

I mean, don't go in there playing Scary Asshole. May try for an Approachable Asshole vibe.' ... 'Approachable Asshole it is, Quinlan.

I've never stopped wanting it- wanting you. I thought it was obvious.

I can't do this without you, Hunt.' He said softly, 'I know. I'm just... Fuck, Quinlan. The thought of anything happening to you scares the shit out of me.

Yeah, yeah, you're the tough, smart male who knows best and I'm an impulsive female whose feelings get her in trouble-

We'll get through the mourning process together, Quinlan. Have a proper send-off for the coffee table. Holstrom should give the eulogy, since he broke it.

Approachable asshole, reporting for duty.

Ruhn demanded, “Did you figure out what kind of demon did it?” “Something that eats little princes for breakfast,” Hunt crooned. Ruhn bared his teeth. “Blow me, Athalar.

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.

It brings me no joy to see you with the halo and slave brand again, Athalar.” “Halo,” Hunt asked as solidly as he could, “or black crown?” Rigelus blinked—the only sign of his surprise—but the term clearly landed with the Bright Hand. “Been talking to shadows, have you?” Rigelus hissed. “Umbra Mortis and all that,” Hunt said. “Makes sense for the Shadow of Death.” Baxian chuckled.

I acted like an asshole. Let me cook something for you to make up for it.' Based on how much chilli powder you just dumped into that pan, I'm not sure I want to accept this particular apology.

The sword's as much yours as it is mine.' Bryce waved a hand. 'I'll take it on weekends and holidays, don't worry.' Hunt tossed in. 'And it'll get two Winter Solstices, so... double the presents.

We're going to be alright,' she lied. 'We're going to go home, where Syrinx is waiting for us. We're going to go home. You and me. Together. We'll have that afterward, like you promised. But only if you hold on, Hunt.

He knows we're a team.' 'A team,' Hunt said slowly. As if, out of everything she'd laid out, that was what he chose to dwell on. 'You know what I mean,' Bryce said. 'I'm not sure I do.' Had his voice dropped lower? 'We're roomies,' she said, her own voice getting breathy. 'Roomies.' 'Occasional Beer Pong Champions?' Hunt snatched the hat off her head and plunked it back on his own, backward as usual. 'Yes, the Autumn King truly fears our unholy beer pong alliance.

He sat close enough that his thigh pressed into hers and went so far as to drape a wing over her. Like he'd never let her out of his sight again. She breathed in his scent, his warmth, over and over again. The most wonderful things in this universe.

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.

There are thirty-six photos on your four-year-old phone, and all of them are of dismembered bodies,' she said. Someone gasped across the store. Hunt gritted his teeth. 'Say it a little louder, Quinlan.' She frowned. 'You never take any others?' 'Of what?' 'Oh, I don't know- of life? A pretty flower or good meal or something?' 'What's the point?' She blinked, then shook her head. 'Weirdo.' And before he could stop her, she'd angled his phone in front of her, beamed from ear to ear, and snapped a photo of herself before she handed it back to him. 'There. One non-corpse photo.

Maybe that day he'd first met Bryce, the gods had sent him there. Not to be some instrument of Hel, but because Urd knew that there would be a female who would be kind and selfless and brave, who would give everything for her city, for her planet. And that she would need someone to give everything back to her.

Everything that ever happened to me, it was all so I could meet you, Quinlan. Be here with you. I'm yours. Forever.' Her throat tightened, and the star on her chest flared, lighting up the entire conservatory like a small moon. Bryce kissed him back, not caring who saw, only that he was here. 'Everything I am is yours,' she said against his lips.

The radio crackled again, and a stranger’s voice filled it. “Daybright, we’re a go at Meridan.” Another voice: “We’re a go at Alcene.” Another: “Ready at Ravilis.” On and on. Eleven locations total. Then a soft female voice said, “This is Irithys. Set to ignite at the Eternal City.” “What the fuck is happening, Lidia?” Hunt breathed. They raced through the narrow city streets, the van with Flynn falling into line behind them. Hunt grunted, “Those are all places on the Spine.” Athalar was right: Every single city mentioned was a major depot along the vital railway that funneled imperial weapons to the front. Lidia didn’t take her eyes off the road as she picked up the radio. “This is Daybright. Blast it to Hel, Irithys.

You know what Bryce would do to me if you wound up dead? I'd never get to fondle her underwear again.' Ithan gaped at him. Then burst out laughing. It was a rich sound, a little hoarse- like he hadn't done it in a while. 'I'm surprised Athalar lets you live.' 'You know what Bryce would do to Hunt if I wound up dead?' Tharion grinned. 'My sweet Legs has my back.

Hunt hissed to Bryce through his gritted teeth, thunder cracking above him, 'I heard what you said.' Pump, pump, pump went his powerful arms. 'What you waited to admit until I was almost dead, you fucking coward.' His lightning surged into her, sending her body arcing off the ground as he tried to jump-start her heard. He snarled in her ear. 'Now come say it to my face.

You said you love me.' 'And?' She cocked an eyebrow. Hunt's mouth twitched upward. 'It was said under duress.' She bit her lip. He wanted to plant his teeth there. 'Are you asking whether I meant it, or do you think you're that good with your mouth that I went out of my mind?' He flicked her nose. 'Smart-ass.' She flopped back onto the mattress. 'They're both true.

Micah had offered Hunt the bargain from his first day in Crescent City four years ago: a kill for every life he’d taken that bloody day on Mount Hermon. Every angel he’d slaughtered during that doomed battle, he was to pay back. In the form of more death. A death for a death, Micah had said. When you’ve fulfilled the debt, Athalar, we’ll discuss removing that tattoo on your brow.

Hunt squinted as he lowered his wing and met the shithead’s eyes. “Fuck you.” Like Hel would these assholes make him beg and grovel—either for his own life or Ruhn’s. Lidia said mildly, “I couldn’t have said it better myself, Athalar.” Hunt looked, but not fast enough. The Hawk certainly didn’t look fast enough. And Hunt knew he’d treasure this moment forever: the moment when Lidia Cervos pulled out her gun and fired it right between the Hawk’s eyes.

The Oracle blinked, a slow bob of those thick lashes. “You remind me of that which was lost long ago,” she said quietly. “I had not realized it might ever appear again.” Before Hunt dared ask what that meant, her lion’s tail—a larger version of Syrinx’s—swayed over the floor. The doors behind him opened on a phantom wind, his dismissal clear. But the Oracle said before stalking into the vapors, “Do yourself a favor, Orion Athalar: keep well away from Bryce Quinlan.

We’re not going to make it,” Baxian called as Lidia zoomed toward the guard station. “Lidia,” Athalar warned. “Get down!” Lidia barked, and Ruhn shut his eyes, sinking low as the grate lowered at an alarming rate. Metal screamed and exploded right above them, the car rocking, shuddering— Yet Lidia kept driving. She raced onto the open road beyond the city as the grate slammed shut behind them. “Cutting it a little close, don’t you think?” Hunt shouted to Lidia, and Ruhn opened his eyes to find that the gunner had been ripped clean off. Baxian was clinging for dear life to the back of the jeep, a manic grin on his face.

Where is Bryce?” hissed the Prince of the Chasm. “She went to find you.” Hunt’s voice broke. Beside him, Ruhn groaned, stirring. “She went to fucking find you, Aidas.” The Princes of Hel looked at each other, some wordless conversation passing between them. Hunt pushed, “You two told her to find you. Fed us all that bullshit about armies and wanting to help and getting her ready—” “Is it possible,” Aidas said to his brother, ignoring Hunt entirely, “after everything …?” “Don’t fall into romanticism,” Apollion cautioned. “The star might have guided her,” Aidas countered. “Please,” Hunt cut in, not caring if he was begging. “Tell me where she is.” Baxian grunted, rising to consciousness. Aidas said quietly, “I have a suspicion, but I can’t tell you, Athalar, lest Rigelus wring it from you. Though he has likely already arrived at the same conclusion.” “Fuck you,” Hunt spat. But Apollion said to his brother, “We must leave.” “Then what was the point of all this watching me from the shadows?” Hunt demanded. “To ensure that we can continue to rely on you when the time comes.” “To do what?” Hunt ground out. “What you were born to do—to accomplish the task for which your father brought you into existence,” Apollion said before fading into nothing, leaving Aidas standing alone before the prisoners. Shock reared up in Hunt, dampened by the weight of an old, unbidden hurt. “I have no father.” Aidas’s expression was sad as he stepped out of the shadows. “You spent too long asking the wrong questions.” “What the fuck does that mean?” Aidas shook his head. “The black crown once again circling your brow is not a new torment from the Asteri. It has existed for millennia.” “Tell me the fucking truth for once—” “Stay alive, Athalar.” The Prince of the Chasm followed his brother, vanishing into darkness and embers.

How,” the Autumn King asked no one in particular. “How?” It was the ancient Prime of the wolves who answered, his withered voice rising above the pinging of the graph. “With the strength of the most powerful force in the world. The most powerful force in any realm.” He pointed to the screen. “What brings loyalty beyond death, undimming despite the years. What remains unwavering in the face of hopelessness.” The Autumn King twisted toward the ancient Prime, shaking his head. Still not understanding. Bryce was at the level of ordinary witches now. But still too far from life. Motion caught Declan’s eye, and he whirled toward the feed of the Old Square. Wreathed in lightning, healed and whole, Hunt Athalar was kneeling over Bryce’s dead body. Pumping her torso with his hands—chest compressions. Hunt hissed to Bryce through his gritted teeth, thunder cracking above him, “I heard what you said.” Pump, pump, pump went his powerful arms. “What you waited to admit until I was almost dead, you fucking coward.” His lightning surged into her, sending her body arcing off the ground as he tried to jump-start her heart. He snarled in her ear, “Now come say it to my face.” Sabine whispered a sentence to the room, to the Autumn King, and Declan’s heart rose, hearing it. It was the answer to the ancient Prime’s words. To the Autumn King’s question of how, against every statistic blaring on Declan’s computer, they were even witnessing Hunt Athalar fight like Hel to keep Bryce Quinlan’s heart beating. Through love, all is possible.

We also trust that this favor will serve as a reminder for you and Hunt Athalar. It is our deepest wish that you remain in the city, and live out your days in peace and contentment. That you use your ancestors’ gift to bring yourself joy. And refrain from using the other gift inked upon you.” Use your starlight as a party trick and never, ever use the Horn. It made her the biggest idiot in Midgard, but she said, “What about Micah and Sandriel?” “Governor Micah went rogue and threatened to destroy innocent citizens of this empire with his high-handed approach to the rebel conflict. Governor Sandriel got what she deserved in being so lax with her control over her slaves.

Bryce slowed her retreat as she winced in pain, “And the apartment building? I thought it was Hunt, but it wasn’t, was it? It was you.” “Yes. Your landlord’s request went to all of my triarii. And to me. I knew Danika had left nothing there. But by that time, Bryce Quinlan, I was enjoying watching you squirm. I knew Athalar’s plan to acquire the synth would soon be exposed—and I took a guess that you’d be willing to believe the worst of him. That he’d used the lightning in his veins to endanger innocent people. He’s a killer. I thought you might need a reminder. That it played into Athalar’s guilt was an unexpected boon.” Hunt ignored the eyes that glanced his way. The fucking asshole had never planned to honor his bargain. If he’d solved the case, Micah would have killed him. Killed them both. He’d been played like a fucking fool. Bryce asked, voice raw, “When did you start to think it was me?” “That night it attacked Athalar in the garden. I realized only later that he’d probably come into contact with one of Danika’s personal items, which must have come into contact with the Horn.” Hunt had touched Danika’s leather jacket that day. Gotten its scent on him. “Once I got Athalar off the streets, I summoned the kristallos again—and it went right to you. The only thing that had changed was that you finally, finally took that amulet off. And then …” He chuckled. “I looked at Hunt Athalar’s photos of your time together. Including that one of your back. The tattoo you had inked there, days before Danika’s death, according to the list of Danika’s last locations Ruhn Danaan sent to you and Athalar—whose account is easily accessible to me.” Bryce’s fingers curled into the carpet, as if she’d sprout claws. “How do you know the Horn will even work now that it’s in my back?” “The Horn’s physical shape doesn’t matter. Whether it is fashioned as a horn or a necklace or a powder mixed with witch-ink, its power remains.” Hunt silently swore. He and Bryce had never visited the tattoo parlor. Bryce had said she knew why Danika was there. Micah went on, “Danika knew the Archesian amulet would hide you from any detection, magical or demonic. With that amulet, you were invisible to the kristallos, bred to hunt the Horn. I suspect she knew that Jesiba Roga has similar enchantments upon this gallery, and perhaps Danika placed some upon your apartments—your old one and the one she left to you—to make sure you would be even more veiled from it.

It was the ancient Prime of the wolves who answered, his withered voice rising above the pinging of the graph. “With the strength of the most powerful force in the world. The most powerful force in any realm.” He pointed to the screen. “What brings loyalty beyond death, undimming despite the years. What remains unwavering in the face of hopelessness.” The Autumn King twisted toward the ancient Prime, shaking his head. Still not understanding. Bryce was at the level of ordinary witches now. But still too far from life. Motion caught Declan’s eye, and he whirled toward the feed of the Old Square. Wreathed in lightning, healed and whole, Hunt Athalar was kneeling over Bryce’s dead body. Pumping her torso with his hands—chest compressions. Hunt hissed to Bryce through his gritted teeth, thunder cracking above him, “I heard what you said.” Pump, pump, pump went his powerful arms. “What you waited to admit until I was almost dead, you fucking coward.” His lightning surged into her, sending her body arcing off the ground as he tried to jump-start her heart. He snarled in her ear, “Now come say it to my face.” Sabine whispered a sentence to the room, to the Autumn King, and Declan’s heart rose, hearing it. It was the answer to the ancient Prime’s words. To the Autumn King’s question of how, against every statistic blaring on Declan’s computer, they were even witnessing Hunt Athalar fight like Hel to keep Bryce Quinlan’s heart beating. Through love, all is possible.

Bryce threw him a grateful glance. “Yes. Do you see what I see?” “No?” Flynn said. “Didn’t you go to some fancy Fae prep school?” she asked. At Flynn’s scowl, she sighed, zooming out on the screen. “Look: all of them took place within steps of one of the major avenues. On top of the ley lines—natural channels for the firstlight to travel through the city.” “Highways of power,” Hunt said, his eyes shining. “They flow right through the Gates.” Yeah, Athalar got it. He aimed for where Isaiah stood twenty feet away, talking to a tall, blond nymph in a forensics jacket. Bryce said to the Fae males, to her wide-eyed brother, “Maybe whoever is summoning this demon is drawing upon the power of these ley lines under the city to have the strength to summon it. If all the murders take place near them, maybe that’s how the demon appeared.

And do you believe it necessary that I contact your mother, Ember Quinlan, to ask for her discretion, too?” The threat gleamed, sharp as a knife. One step out of line, and they knew where to strike first. Hunt’s hands curled into fists. “No,” Bryce said. “She doesn’t know about the Governors.” “And she never will. No one else will ever know, Bryce Quinlan.” Bryce swallowed again. “Yes.” A soft laugh. “Then you and Hunt Athalar have our blessing.” The line went dead. Bryce stared at the phone like it was going to sprout wings and fly around the room. Hunt slumped on the couch, rubbing his face. “Live quietly and normally, keep your mouths shut, never use the Horn, and we won’t fucking kill you and everyone you love.

I see you, Quinlan, he silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it. Right back at you, her half smile seemed to say.

I have fun with you, Quinlan. Despite how terrible this case is, despite all of it, I haven't had fun like this in a while.' In ever. He could have sworn she blushed. 'Hang with me, Athalar,' she said, trying to wipe the grime off her legs and hands from kneeling at the grate entrance, 'and you might get rid of that sick up your ass after all.

I wasn't- you're a pain in the ass, you know that?' 'I'd rather be a pain in the ass,' she said slyly over her bare shoulder, 'than a snooping pervert.

I'm glad you're not dead.' Hunt chuckled, letting himself bury his face against her neck. 'So am I.

Assuming you live through taking on the Archangels and Asteri, what then?' 'I don't know.' He gave her a half smile. 'Maybe you and I can figure it out, Quinlan. We'll have centuries to do it.

You look how I feel,' she whispered, her throat tight. 'Every day.

I didn't know clothing sales got you so hot and bothered, Quinlan.' She nearly whimpered. Forced herself to keep still. 'It's the little things in life, Athalar.

To the Autumn King’s question of how, against every statistic blaring on Declan’s computer, they were even witnessing Hunt Athalar fight like Hel to keep Bryce Quinlan’s heart beating. Through love, all is possible.

Did you figure out what kind of demon did it?' 'Something that eats little princes for breakfast,' Hunt crooned.

This drive contains footage of you at a three-day orgy?' Hunt demanded. 'Let me know if it gets you hot and bothered, Athalar.' The Viper Queen took another hit of the cigarette. Her green eyes drifted toward his lap. 'I hear you're one Hel of a ride when you pause the brooding long enough.

Just because you're some big, tough asshole doesn't mean you get the right to decide when I should eat- or when I'm not taking care of my body. I'm the one who lives in it, I know when I fucking wanting to eat. So keep your possessive and aggressive bullshit to yourself.

When makes are kneeling between my legs, Athalar,' she said, 'they're not usually grimacing.

So what do we do?” Dec asked Cormac. “Go to Ydra and convince them not to let Pippa have access to all those weapons?” “Yes.” Cormac nodded to Bryce. “Send an otter to Captain Ketos. And I believe we’re also going to need Hunt Athalar’s expertise.

But inside him, beyond that sea of pain and despair, Bryce was the entirety of his world. His mate. His wife. His princess. Prince Hunt Athalar Danaan. He would have hated the last name were it not for the fact that it was a marker of her ownership over his soul, his heart.

Thanks for the pep talk,” she said, but smiled grimly up at Hunt. “Light it up, Athalar.

What you were born to do—to accomplish the task for which your father brought you into existence,” Apollion said before fading into nothing, leaving Aidas standing alone before the prisoners. Shock reared up in Hunt, dampened by the weight of an old, unbidden hurt. “I have no father.” Aidas’s expression was sad as he stepped out of the shadows. “You spent too long asking the wrong questions.” “What the fuck does that mean?” Aidas shook his head. “The black crown once again circling your brow is not a new torment from the Asteri. It has existed for millennia.” “Tell me the fucking truth for once—” “Stay alive, Athalar.” The Prince of the Chasm followed his brother, vanishing into darkness and embers.