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He winced and put forth his brightest charm—his first and best line of defense. “I tend to have that effect on females?”
The monarch didn’t smile, but he could have sworn Sendes, stationed in the doorway, was trying not to.
The Ocean Queen folded her hands in front of her curved, soft belly. “I have received reports that the Viper Queen of Lunathion has put a bounty on your head for three million gold marks.” Athalar, the bastard, let out a low whistle. “Five million if you’re alive, so she can punish you herself.”
Tharion choked on a breath. “For what?” He added hastily, “Your Majesty.”
“I don’t know the particulars, nor do I care to,” the Ocean Queen said, pearlescent teeth flashing behind her vivid red lips. “But I believe it has something to do with your presence bringing certain individuals who then caused untold damage to her property. She holds you responsible.”
He was so, so fucked.
“But that is not the end of my problems,” the queen went on. He could have sworn those glistening teeth sharpened. “My so-called sister in the Istros is demanding your return as well. She is threatening war upon me—me—if you are not handed over. Presumably to be executed.”
He could scarcely get a breath down. “Please,” he whispered, “my parents—”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about your family if I were you,” the Ocean Queen seethed. Her teeth were now hooked and razor-like. Pure shark. “The River Queen and Viper Queen only want you. I would like one good reason why I shouldn’t hand you over—let them squabble over your carcass.”
He scrambled for some way to disarm the moment, to win her, but came up empty. His unnaturally deep pool of luck had finally and officially run dry—
“You hand him over,” a female voice drawled from the open doorway, “and you’ll have a third queen pissed at you.”
Tharion’s stomach bottomed out.
Bryce Quinlan swept through the doorway and winked at the Ocean Queen. “Tharion serves me.”
41
Hunt had left his body. Maybe he’d died. That was Bryce in the doorway, smirking at the Ocean Queen.
She was Bryce and yet she was … not.
She wore her usual casual attire—skintight jeans and a soft white T-shirt topped with a navy athletic jacket. Hel, she even sported those neon-pink sneakers. But there was something different in her posture, in the way the light seemed to shimmer from her.
She was older, somehow. Not in any line or wrinkle, but in her eyes. Like she’d been through some major shit, good and bad. Hunt recognized it, because he knew it lay etched in his own face, too.
The Ocean Queen eyed Bryce unflinchingly. “And who, pray tell, are you?”
Bryce didn’t miss a beat. “I’m Bryce Danaan, Queen of the Valbaran Fae.”
Hunt let out a strangled sound—a sob.
Bryce looked at him then, scanning his face, the tears he couldn’t stop. Her gaze flicked to the halo, then down to his wrist—but her expression yielded nothing. She just walked up to where he sat, and it was her, her fucking scent, and that was her soft skin brushing his hand as she peered down into his face.
“Hey,” he said, voice rough, eyes stinging.
Bryce squeezed his hand, tears filling her eyes as well. “Hey.” She blinked her tears away, twisting back to the Ocean Queen, who monitored every move. Every breath.
The Ocean Queen said to Bryce, shark’s teeth flashing, “I recognize no queen bearing that title.”
“I do,” Hunt said, folding his wings behind him as he stood, coming to Bryce’s side. Her fingers grazed his own, and a chill of pleasure soared through him. “She’s my mate.” He sketched a bow to the Ocean Queen. “Prince Hunt Athalar Danaan, at your service. I can testify that Tharion Ketos serves my queen and mate. Any other claims to him are false.”
Bryce shot him a wry glance that seemed to say, You’re a big fucking liar, but I love you.
The Ocean Queen still surveyed Bryce with a face as cold as the northern reaches of the Haldren Sea. “That remains to be seen.” She pointed to Tharion, her fingernail made of pure nacre. “Tharion Ketos, you are confined to this ship until I decide otherwise.”
Tharion bowed his head, but remained still and silent.
The Ocean Queen lowered her finger and shot a sharp glance at Bryce. It was instinct for Hunt’s knees to bend, to prepare to leap between them, to shield his mate. But there was no amount of lightning, no gun, no weapon that could save Bryce, should the Ocean Queen bring the full wrath of the sea down upon them. This deep, they’d have no chance of reaching the surface in time. That is, if their bodies didn’t explode first from the pressure.
