Crescent City by Sarah J. Maas is what I imagine blue balls must feel like. Why are Bryce and Hunt constantly interrupted during literally every steamy scene?! It kills me lol.
Sarah better gives us some more action in the 2nd book.
I need Bryce and Hunt to be endgame. If SJM turns him into another Tamlin, I will riot. Sure, I’m interested to see Aidas develop as a character in the series, but not in a romantic way.
WHO IS SO EXCITED FOR TOMORROW???? I literally cannot wait to read House of Sky and Breath, I’ve just finished reading CC on my audiobook and I’m sobbing!
Art based on the book “Crescent City” by Sarah Maas. My queen Lehabah and … other characters Bryce Quinlan and Hunt Athalar. This exclusive art for the A Court Of Candles.
I might be one of the only people that loves that Sarah’s heroine never ends up with the first guy she falls in love with like almost every other ya/na book out there. It’s refreshing. I was expecting a Rowan or Rhys equivalent to come along in the next Crescent City book so I am a little disappointed
okay this chapter is a little gross because Nesta had to be such a stone cold killer sooooooooo
TW!!! GORE!!!
When the sun breached the trees, the golden rays reflected off the cool steel and purple gemstones. It glistened off the bloody ground and reflected in the droplets as crimson seeped into white.
Steam still rose off the treasures left at the base of the sword, even after hours the blood and flesh was still warm compared to the chill of Windhaven.
Amren was the first to see the sickening shrine at the crest of the hill- in plain view of every single Illyrian who lived there.
The Witches Excutioner blade impaled the winter ground, the shining silver wrapped in red, a patchwork of deathly roses twisting around the sword. At it’s bloodied feet lay remains. Pale, some turning a blueish from the winter winds. Scalps, fingers, strips of flesh, chunks of hair. Laid about the white ground like a tapestry of slaughter, an artist signing her work.
Amren was not the only one to see it. Behind her, the females she was with, all stood and watched as Amren approached the bloody monument.
A single note fluttered from the tip of the sword.
Tell the children stories of the monster of silver flames.
White eyes and stolen power.
She hunts. Warn them not to become one.
I will see you all at the monolith.
The paper crunched in Amren’s hand as she folded the note. She ventured back down the hill, to where the others waited.
“She’s started without us.” Was all Amren said, holding the note out to Lori.
Lori read it slowly, then handed it to Sera.
Slowly, the note made it’s way around the group of women. Rosie, Iona, Maira.
Iona spoke, her skeletal wings casting shadows onto the ground before her. “It’s dawn.”
Rosie nodded slowly. “The others will be in training.”
Maria’s eyes were locked onto the bloodied mess on the hill before them.
Lori nodded. “Let’s not waste time, then.”
Amren was handed the note again, and bounded up the hill to place it back on the sword. Whoever found this shine to monsters next would know exactly who did this. The Terthal case would be dismissed, the truth would be out in the open now.
Everyone would know what Nesta had done. Rhys and Feyre and the Inner Circle would all know.
And somehow, walking to training with the other females, Amren still smiled.
The wind whipped the smell through the window. It was sour, a sharp almost painful smell. Devlon sat up in bed, his wife still sleeping as far away from him on the bed as possible. He sighed, standing from the bed and heading to the open window.
Devlon did not remember leaving it open.
He bunched his brows together. It was freezing in this room. How was his wife still asleep?
The window frame was cold as his fingers perched on the edge to close it. Another drift of wind, another tide of the disgusting scent stopped him. Devlon peered through the window, trying to find where it was coming from.
When the gleam of silver reflected into his eyes, Devlon flinched away, shifting his position to negate the sun’s rays off whatever was glinting.
Looking back, Devlon saw what looked like a small shrine. A sword stabbed into the frozen earth and some flowers spread around it.
No, no it wasn’t flowers.
What was that?
Devlon watched as another gust of wind blew the hairs from a scalp at the bottom of the sword free, watching them drift through the wind.
Those were body parts. It wasn’t roses, it was blood.
Devlon almost gagged. The pile was surrounding the sword, and if he looked closer he could decipher different peices and parts.
He slammed the window shut, making sure to lock it tightly.
“What’s wrong?”
The sound of his wife’s voice made him jump. Devlon placed a hand on his chest, steadying himself.
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong.” He brushed past her to the closet, pulling out clothing for the day.
The quiet chuckle from his wife made his body freeze up as he reached for an undershirt.
“You are so pathetic.” She laughed again, bolder this time.
Devlon turned, a chill running down his spine at his wife’s face. “What did you just say?”
She smiled, a cat playing with prey. “I said,” She cocked her head. “You are pathetic.”
The blow came before he ever saw it coming. Devlon was knocked to the floor, his face hot from the impact.
He tried to look up at her, only to find his vision blocked by something. His fingers tried to cover whatever wound had downed him. When Devlon pulled his hand away, it was dark.
Blood. Running down his head into his eyes. On hands. And on the mace in his wife’s hands.
He groaned, turning over in an attempt to find some kind of freedom. His head hurt. He couldn’t see straight. Where was he again?
A cold hand around his ankle drew his attention. He felt the floor being pulled underneath him, splinters gouging his skin from their unfinished wooden floor.
“Did you think the Mother has not seen everything you’ve done?” She hissed from above him, her form heaving the mace above her head before bringing it down on his ankle.
Devlon cried out, the blood slipping over his lips into his mouth. He folded himself small, trying to disappear. His pulse was wild in his ankle, but he dare not look down to assess the damage. His abdomen heaved, and he turned his head just in time to expel his stomach contents onto the floor.
“She has seen everything you have done to those girls.”
His chin was being gripped, bile dripping down his neck. Devlon locked onto the eyes of his wife. They were wild, a fire of rage and contentment and something darker burning through her irises.
“I have seen everything you have done.”
Devlon tried to speak, to apologize, to say anything to delay this fate, but she had him by the throat on the ground and he couldn’t breathe to form a sentence.
“And do you know what I think, Devlon?”
Stars danced around the edge of his limited vision, his hands trying and failing to pry her off of him. Devlon was helpless as his wife raised the mace one more time, clear above her head.
“I think you are the kind of monster that cannot be forgiven.”
Devlon heard her breathe out as she downed the mace.
The females of Windhaven were circled together, listening to Lori with a fire in their hearts.
This was it. Nesta had set the stage, had given them the floor.
Now all they had to do was take it.
“We’ve been preparing for this. You all are ready for this.” Lori spoke so clearly, as if this was something simplistic. “Sera, Iona, and I will be back. Rosie and Amren will continue to train you. If any male during this time tries anything, you go to them.”
Amren nodded, looking to Rosie. Her round face was something stern, determined.
Speaking to the group, Amren rose to her tippy toes to see everyone.
“No male will get away with anything less then humanity from this moment on. When they return from the Rite, we will prove that is the absolute bare minimum you deserve.” A few hoops and hollers from the crowd, the energy palpable as it radiated through the crowd.
This was the moment. This was their time to change their world.
All heads turned toward the forest as a rustling changed the excitement to nerves.
But as the watched Devlon’s wife strut through the trees, they all knew what the blood on her meant.
“It’s done.” She spoke through the crowd. “Devlon is dead.”
The crowd erupted, cheers and applause as they all ran to congratulate her.
Lori leaned to Sera, an arm locked through hers. “This is the right thing to do, right?”
“Even if it isn’t,” Sera watched as all the females cheered about the death of Devlon. “It’s too late now.”
“Nesta could have at least given us a heads up.” Iona stepped up next to them, eyes on the crowd.
Amren laughed. “That wouldn’t have been nearly as fun for her, though.”
“You have a point.” Iona sighed. They would have to be ready now. No more one day, weeks from now.
It was today. It was right now.
It was happening as they spoke.
“Alright!” Lori’s voice breached the noise and everyone settled back to listen. “Alright, it’s time.”
Iona stepped up, thrusting an arm through the air, much to excited for her own good. “IT’S TIME!”
The females roared in response, Sera and Rosie rolling their eyes as Iona hollered.
“Yes, thank you, Iona.” Lori patted her friend’s large arm. “Those of us participating in the Rite are going to speak with the High Royalty. The rest of you-”
“You rest of you AMAZING WOMEN!!” Iona roared again, right in Rosie’s ear.
As the crowd fed off of Iona’s energy, Rosie thought how grateful she was to have her friend back. Iona had gone through it for the last few weeks, healing and hurting. But working with Verra, Iona had gotten her silly spark back, that contagious smile that lended itself so well to this.
Iona’s smile spread to every corner of her face as she faced the crowd. Lori held her forehead in her hand, waiting for Iona to finish.
“The rest of you, return to your homes. Go about your day. The hard work is on you. Standing up and standing for each other is all up to you.” Lori paused, part of her waiting for Iona to jump in. But Iona just smiled, nodding in agreement.
Laughing to herself, Lori smiled. Smiled for the females before her, who would be the women who fought for each other. The young ones, who would be the first generation of freedom. She smiled even for the pain she would have to endure to prove that femininity was not a weakness. She smiled as the winter wind chapped her lips and tangled her hair.
“So go.” Lori said, looking over the eager eyes and hopefullness she had not seen in her lifetime.
Rhys could do nothing but stare at this graveyard before him. The different skin tones, the hair colors, the states of decay- these parts were from ten or more different people. It wasn’t just that. It was the fact that Rhys knew exactly who did this. Rhys knew he had shared a part of himself with the murderer who killed these fathers, sons, and brothers.
And no matter how he should have though, Rhys was almost impressed with Nesta’s ability to slaughter.
There was nothing he could do now. It was something he knew would come. The abuse of the Illyrian females was something he could not control, so the backlash was out of his control too. He could try, clean up the mess it left behind, but he knew he could not stop it.
Azriel flew next to him, landing hard and Rhys was speaking before his feet even touched the ground.
“I thought you were going to bring Devlon with you, Az.”
His brother was pale, shaking his head.
“Devlon is dead, Rhys.”
Rhys’s blood ran cold. “What?”
Az looked past Rhys to the bloody sword in the ground, still shaking his head. “He was bludgeoned to death with a mace. A mace, Rhys. His wings…” Az shuddered. “They were pulp. Nothing left to bury.”
“Did Nesta kill him, Az?” Rhys knew she was capable of insanity, but decimating the Warlord of Windhaven? That was another level.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so, no one has seen her since last night.” He took a deep breath. “Devlon is dead.”
Rhys didn’t know what to say. So he simply repeated, “Devlon is dead.” Blodghened to death with a mace. The High Lord wondered if his assailant killed him before or after grinding his wings to nothing.
He turned to the Shadowswinger, his mind running a million miles an hour. “Have you spoken to Cassian?”
“Are you joking?” Az leaned foreword, “If he hears about any of this, he would tear through Illyria to find her. Cassian wouldn’t rest, he wouldn’t let himself heal, I just-”
Rhys held his hand up in surrender. “I know. All this shit…” Rhys sighed. “He is the last person to find out about any of this, agreed?”
Az nodded. “Agreed.”
Rhys looked to his brother, his mind empty and full and hurting all at once.
“We’re looking at an uprising here, Rhys.”
He nodded in agreement, his eyes drifting past his brother even as Az spoke. “So what’s the next step?”
Watching the female shapes approach the two of them past Az’s shoulder, Rhys almost smiled.
Hunt is FAE! He is specifically descended from the Seraphim (descended from Prince Drakon). Seraphim are winged faerie warriors, whose wings resemble those of angels. Seraphim is another word for angels as well. Seraphim are also related to the Peregryns, another type feather winged faerie. I don’t know where his lightning powers come from but it makes sense especially when the crossover is happening. We could coax it upto genetic mutation that the Asteri had done for the angels not having tipped ears. And thats why Bryce and Hunt were able to mate specifically. I have never seen SJM’s main character not be fae. Its just not her
This could then bring Prince Drakon and Miriyam into play who have been hiding all these years! And the whole of Prythian and Hel could war against the Asteri!
I also think the shifters are descended from the Spring Court ( ie Tamlin- aint he a shifter?) or from Erilea, where all faes have their counter animal parts like Rowan, Gavriel, Vaughn……
This could just end up in a whole convoluted mind blowing crossover that could just destroy me but i’m here for that
Let me know your thoughts though xx
Omg!!!! And this is why Bryce x Hunt are actually mates on the ‘molecular level’ despite the fact they are supposedly from different species. It’s because they are BOTH FAE!!! This can also support Ruhn x Lidia being mates too
