Hunt sighed. “That’s what I was starting to say: even if I hadn’t rebelled, I’d wind up in a sugarcoated version of my life now. Because I’m still a legionary being used for my so-called gifts—just now officially a slave, rather than being forced into service by a lack of other options. The only other difference is that I’m serving in Valbara, in a fool’s bargain with an Archangel, hoping to one day be forgiven for my supposed sins.”

“You don’t think they were sins.”

“No. I think the angel hierarchies are bullshit. We were right to rebel.”

“Even though it cost you everything?”

“Yeah. So I guess that’s my answer. I’d still do it, even knowing what would happen. And if I ever get free …” Bryce halted her stirring. Met his stare unblinkingly as Hunt said, “I remember every one of them who was there on the battlefield, who brought down Shahar. And all the angels, the Asteri, the Senate, the Governors—all of them, who were there at our sentencing.” He leaned against the counter behind them and swigged from his beer, letting her fill in the rest.

“And after you’ve killed them all? What then?”

He blinked at the lack of fear, of judgment. “Assuming I live through it, you mean.”

“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.”

“If I make the Drop.”

He started. “You would choose not to?” It was rare—so, so rare for a Vanir to refuse to make the Drop and live only a mortal life span.

She added more vegetables and seasoning to the pan before throwing a packet of instant rice into the microwave. “I don’t know. I’d need an Anchor.”

“What about Ruhn?” Her cousin, even if neither of them would admit it, would take on every beast in the Pit itself to protect her.

She threw him a look dripping with disdain. “No fucking way.”

“Juniper, then?” Someone she truly trusted, loved.

“She’d do it, but it doesn’t feel right. And using one of the public Anchors isn’t for me.”

“I used one. It was fine.” He spied the questions brimming in her eyes and cut her off before she could voice them. “Maybe you’ll change your mind.”

“Maybe.” She chewed on her lip. “I’m sorry you lost your friends.”

“I’m sorry you lost yours.”