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“Sorry,” Bryce said to the kings, not lowering her weapons, “but the blades don’t work for rejected losers.”
The Autumn King sneered, “Their taste is questionable. We shall remedy that at last.”
“Right,” Bryce said thoughtfully. “I forgot that you killed the last Starborn Prince because you couldn’t deal with how jealous you were of him.”
The Autumn King, as he had the last time she’d accused him of this, only chuckled. Morven glanced at him, as if in sudden doubt.
But the Autumn King said, “Jealous? Of that sniveling whelp? He was unworthy of that sword, but no more unworthy than you.”
Bryce flashed him a winning smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The Autumn King went on, “I killed the boy because he wanted to put an end to the bloodline. To all that the Fae are.” The male jerked his chin at Bryce. “Like you, no doubt.”
She shrugged. “Not gonna deny it.”
“Oh, I know your heart, Bryce Quinlan,” the Autumn King seethed. “I know what you’d do, if left to your own devices.”
“Binge an obscene amount of TV?”
His flame rose higher, herding her friends closer together. Dangerously little space remained between their bodies and the fire. “You are a threat to the Fae. Raised by your mother to abhor us, you are not fit to bear the royal name.”
Bryce let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “You think my mom turned me against you? I turned against you the moment you sent your goons after us to kill her and Randall. And every moment since then, you pathetic loser. You want someone to blame for me thinking the Fae are worthless pieces of shit? Look in the mirror.”
“Ignore her hysterical prattling,” Morven warned the Autumn King.
The Autumn King bared his teeth at her. “You’ve let a little bit of inherited power and a title go to your head.”
Morven’s shadows rose behind him, ready to obliterate all in their path. “You’ll wish for death when the Asteri get their hands on you.”
Bryce tightened her grip on the blades. They hummed, pulling toward each other. Like they were begging her for that final reunification. She ignored them, and instead asked the Fae Kings, “Finally going to hand us over?”
“The worms you associate with, yes,” the Autumn King said without an ounce of pity. “But you …”
“Right, breeding,” Bryce said, and didn’t miss Hunt’s incredulous look at her tone. Her arms strained with the effort of keeping the blades apart. “I’m assuming Sathia, Flynn, and Dec will be kept for breeding, too, but any non-Fae are out of luck. Sorry, guys.”
“This is not a joke,” Morven spat.
“No, it’s not,” Bryce said, and met his stare. “And I’m done laughing at you fools.”
Morven didn’t flinch. “That little light show might have surprised us last time, but one spark from you, and your friends burn. Or shall we demonstrate an alternate method?” Morven gestured with a shadow-wreathed hand to the Murder Twins.
Bryce checked that her mental wall of starlight was intact, but like the bullies they were, the twins struck the person they assumed was weakest.
One heartbeat, Sathia was wide-eyed and monitoring the showdown. The next, she’d snatched a knife from Tharion’s side.
And held it against her own throat.
“Stop it,” Tharion snarled toward the twins, who were snickering.
Sathia’s hand shook, and she pressed the dagger into her neck a little harder, drawing a trickle of blood.
“You make one move toward her, fish, and that knife slides home,” Morven said.
“Leave her alone,” Bryce said, and stepped forward—just one foot. The sword and dagger in her hands now seemed to tug forward, too—toward the center of the room. She tightened her grip on them.
Fire blazed brighter around her friends. One of Baxian’s feathers caught fire, and Dec only just managed to pat it out before it could spread. “Drop the blades, and they’ll release her mind,” the Autumn King countered.
Bryce glanced to the sword and knife, fighting that tug from both weapons toward the center of the room.
