He couldn’t let her do it. Not even for what remained of his soul. Hunt opened his mouth, but the Archangel took the dangling necklace from Bryce’s fingers. Sandriel glanced between them. Read everything on Hunt’s face. A snake’s smile curled her mouth. “Your loyalty to my sister was the one good thing about you, Athalar.” She clenched her fist around the amulet. “But it seems those photographs did not lie.”

The Archesian amulet melted into streams of gold on the floor.

Something ruptured in Hunt’s chest at the devastation that crumpled Bryce’s face.

He said quietly to her, his first words all day, “Get out of here, Bryce.”

But Bryce pocketed the check. And slid to her knees.

“Then take me.”

Terror rocked him, so violently he had no words when Bryce looked up at Sandriel, tears filling her eyes as she said, “Take me in his place.”

A slow grin spread across Pollux’s face.

No. She’d already traded her eternal resting place in the Bone Quarter for Danika. He couldn’t let her trade her mortal life for him. Not for him—

“Don’t you dare!” The male bellow cracked across the space. Then Ruhn was there, wreathed in shadows, Declan and Flynn flanking him. They weren’t foolish enough to reach for their guns as they sized up Sandriel’s guards. Realized that Pollux Antonius, the Malleus, stood there, sword angled to punch through Bryce’s chest if Sandriel so much as gave the nod.

The Crown Prince of the Fae pointed at Bryce. “Get off the floor.”

Bryce didn’t move. She just repeated to Sandriel, “Take me in his place.”

Hunt snapped at Bryce, “Be quiet,” just as Ruhn snarled at the Archangel, “Don’t listen to a word she says—”

Sandriel took a step toward Bryce. Another. Until she stood before her, peering down into Bryce’s flushed face.

Hunt pleaded, “Sandriel—”

“You offer your life,” Sandriel said to Bryce. “Under no coercion, no force.”

Ruhn lunged forward, shadows unfurling around him, but Sandriel raised a hand and a wall of wind held him in check. It choked off the prince’s shadows, shredding them into nothing.

It held Hunt in check, too, as Bryce met Sandriel’s stare and said, “Yes. In exchange for Hunt’s freedom, I offer myself in his place.” Her voice shook, cracking. She knew how he’d suffered at the Archangel’s hands. Knew what awaited her would be even worse.

“Everyone here would call me a fool to take this bargain,” Sandriel mused. “A half-breed with no true power or hope to come into it—in exchange for the freedom of one of the most powerful malakim to ever darken the skies. The only warrior on Midgard who can wield lightning.”

“Sandriel, please,” Hunt begged. The air ripping from his throat choked off his words.