Exclusive: Callie Hart's ‘Quicksilver’ Excerpt is Hotter Than a Iron Forge

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Callie Hart's Quicksilver has been taking over our for you pages for quite a while and it's now becoming this biggest release of the season. And while there are a lucky few who have already read it thanks to its previous indie pressing, now we're all about to fall in love with this story that raises our love of enemies-to-lovers to a whole different level. Luckily for all of us, the wait is almost over, but that doesn't mean that we can't still have a special treat before it comes out.

Cosmopolitan has an exclusive look at Quicksilver, which is being released on December 3, 2024. The book follows Saeris, a human who suddenly finds herself in the middle of a conflict that also brings her into the Fae world. And who better to try to find your way home with than a fae warrior? Here's some more info from our friends at Forever:

And while we're one step closer from moving this from your TBR pile to your favorite shelf, that doesn't mean that you have to wait that long to finally see what is going to happen between Kingfisher and Saeris. Check out an exclusive excerpt below! Just make sure to pre-order Quicksilver and even check out some of Callie's other books while you're at it.

An Excerpt From Quicksilver
By Callie Hart

“Next time you’re curious about me, feel free to ask me,” Kingfisher said as he laid his hand on the forge’s brand-new door. This was the first time he’d spoken since we left the library, preferring to march through the Winter Palace in stony silence.

The door swung open, and he went inside.

I hovered on the threshold, trying to decide if I wanted to go in after him or if I wanted to run in the opposite direction, back to my room, where he wouldn’t be able to give me any grief. The palace was a winding nightmare of hallways, staircases, and corridors, but I thought I could find my way if I really tried.

My legs were as heavy as hewn stone as I followed him into the forge. “If I’d asked you something, you wouldn’t have answered me. And if you had, it wouldn’t have been the truth.”

“Incorrect. If you asked me something worthy of a reply, then I’d answer. If I answered, then it would be the truth.” Just as he’d done yesterday, he began stripping out of his armor, again starting by removing his sword. This time I was prepared and didn’t flinch when he drew the weapon.

“Right. Sure.” Humans and Fae were different in many ways, but sarcasm was universal.

His hands worked deftly on the strap that went around his side, unfastening his chest protector. “Try me, human.”

“All right. Fine.” Thanks to Kingfisher’s little clean-up trick last night, the forge was spotless today. The workbench was free of debris, the floor immaculate. All of the tools were good as new, hanging on hooks on the wall opposite the hearth. I maneuvered myself around the other side of the workbench, putting the biggest, heaviest obstacle that I could between us as he continued to remove his armor, just in case he didn’t like my questioning and came for me. Because I planned on riling him. Annoying him. Baiting him the same way he baited me, with his constant Osha name calling, and his open derision.

Screw him.

Kingfisher dropped his chest protector to the floor.

I braced against the workbench and said, “Elroy swears that a man will lie about the size of his cock every time a woman asks him.”

Kingfisher stilled. “Are you asking me how big my cock is, Osha?”

“I don’t care how big it is. I care about the way you answer.”

A slow, terrifying smirk spread across his face. “It’s big enough to make you scream and then some.”

“See.” I jabbed a finger at him. “You’re not going to be honest.”

He looked around the forge, feigning confusion. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure that I understand your meaning.”

“Ask a man how big his dick is, and he’ll show you that he’s full of shit.”

“Maybe. But I’m not a man. I’m a Fae male.” He paused. “And maybe I’m just well-endowed.”

“Or maybe you’re just wasting my time, and we should get on with whatever you’re going to attempt to teach me here,” I snapped.

Kingfisher’s hands moved to the back of his neck. It took him all of four seconds to unfasten his gorget and slide the silver plate free. “Maybe the issue is that you asked me a question about my cock like a hungry little bitch in heat and didn’t ask me something that mattered.”

Gods, but he kept surprising me. Every time I thought I’d reached the limit of how much one living being could detest another, he went and proved to me that I was capable of so much more. “All right. Okay. Fine. I will ask you something that matters. You were banished from the Yvelian Court because you did something bad. Belikon said you razed an entire city to the ground.”

He crooked a dark eyebrow at me. “That was a question?” “Did you do it?” I asked.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m sharing a very small space with you right now. Because we’re alone. Because I want to know if I’m breathing the same air as a mass murderer. And don’t dodge a question by asking me a question. Did you do it?”

He surveyed me intensely. Even from a distance, I could see the trapped quicksilver swirling in amongst that sea of vivid green. “Yes.” The word came out abruptly. Defiantly. “I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t have a choice.”

I slapped my hands against the workbench, my anger a clenched iron fist in my chest. “Why?”

“You’re not ready for that information. You’ll never be ready.” “Why?”

“Because you’re human, and humans are weak,” he snarled. “Because it’s none of your business. Because it doesn’t matter why I did it. Because no matter what reason I give to you, it won’t be good enough. Now ask me something else.”

My voice shook when I spoke. “Renfis said that you’ve been suffering for the past century because you were banished after you destroyed that city. Where did they send you?”

Kingfisher prowled toward the workbench. All of the armor was gone now. He was dressed in a simple loose black shirt and black pants again. At his throat, the silver chain hanging around his neck—the one he’d loaned to me when I was dying—glinted, catching my attention. I tried not to pull back as he drew closer, but he was huge. He towered over me, taking up so much room, invading my space, blotting out the damn light. He was all I could see. All I could smell. He was cold morning air, and smoke, and fresh-turned earth, and a thousand other complex scents I didn’t even have names for.

Canines bared, he leaned in so close that barely an inch separated the tips of our noses. And he snarled, “Hell.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. He was so close. So angry. It was as if he was on the verge of breaking and only being held back by the thinnest of threads.

Out of nowhere, his composure snapped back into place, his canines disappearing in a flash. “Pray you never have to experience it firsthand, human,” he whispered. “Hold out your hand.”

“Hold out my…?”

“Yes, hold out your hand.”

Up this close, he could take my hand and the arm it was attached to if he wanted to. He could tear me limb from limb and there wouldn’t be a thing I could do about it. Numb and trembling, I held out my hand, praying wholeheartedly that he wasn’t about to start breaking my fingers for upsetting him. Something cool and smooth pressed into the center of my palm. Kingfisher closed my grip around it, then cupped his huge, tattooed hands tightly around mine. At first, I didn’t feel it. I was too aware of his proximity and the wild array of different scents that kept rolling off of him and slamming into me.

Wood, and leather, and spices, and something green, and faint musk, and—

“Ow.”

Kingfisher narrowed his eyes. “What is it?”

“Ow! That hurts!” I tried to pull my hand free, but Kingfisher’s grip tightened. He held on, grasping my hand tighter and tighter in his, and the burning sensation in the center of my palm really started to sting. “Kingfisher,” I said in a warning tone. He didn’t release me, only stood there, staring down at me, watching me, the metallic threads of silver shifting wildly in his right eye. “Fisher, what are you doing?”

“Tell me what it is,” he demanded.

“It’s hurting me, is what it is!” I cried, really pulling on my hand now. I wrenched and yanked, putting my whole bodyweight behind the motion, desperate to free myself, but Kingfisher held fast.

“Is it hot? Cold? Sharp? Soft?”

“Cold! It’s cold! It’s burning, it’s so cold!” That made no sense, but it was true. Ice crawled inside me, leeching into my bones. “It hurts! Let go, Fisher! Please! Make it stop!”

“You make it stop,” he commanded. “I can’t! I can’t!”

Resolve flickered in his eyes. “You can.” “Let go!”

“You want to prove me right, is that it? You’re weak? You’re a human, so you’re weak and useless and pathetic? Is that it?”

“FISHER!”

He spun us around so that my back was to the workbench. I felt the edge of the wood digging into the small of my back, but the pressure was nothing compared to the awful ball of pain he had trapped between our hands. “Listen to it,” he commanded.

“What?” He wasn’t making any sense.

Kingfisher removed one hand, but it made no difference—he only needed one hand to hold both of mine. With the hand he now had free, he grabbed me firmly by the chin, forcing me to be still. To look at him. “Listen,” he repeated. “What is it saying?”

“It’s saying that you’re an…evil…piece of…shit,” I ground out.

He didn’t react to that. “The sooner you do as I say, the sooner this all ends, human.”

My jaw was screaming, I was clenching my teeth so hard. “Fuck—you—”

“There you go again. Hungry, needy little bitch in heat, begging to be fucked…” he taunted.

“Let. Go!”

“LIIIIISTENNN!! ” Kingfisher’s roar snatched my breath away. It snatched the light, too. The whole forge went black as pitch in an instant, and the pain in my hand, traveling up my arm, turned into a rope of fire. “There is you, and there is the pain. Nothing else,” he whispered. “Move past it. Move through it. Let it roll over you.”

This was cruel. This was torture. I was burning alive. He was going to kill me. “I can’t,” I sobbed.

“You can. Show me that I’m wrong. Show me that you’re tougher than I think you are.”

Of all the things he’d said to me, it was this that somehow reached me. I sucked in a stuttering breath and tried to calm my mind. The thrumming, throbbing, panicking, desperate part of me calmed the tiniest fraction. An infinitesimal amount. It made the pain flicker for a second—not long enough to provide any real kind of relief—but it was long enough.

There was a voice. A million voices.

Annorath mor!

Annorath mor!

Annorath mor!

Annorath mor!

The sound was deafening. I screamed around it, shaking my head, trying to get it out, but it blazed through every part of my mind, consuming me, eradicating every memory, every thought, every feeling…

“Annorath…MOR! ” I screamed. The pain blinked out.

The light rushed back in.

The voices fell silent, and the quiet they left behind was deafening.

Kingfisher stood frozen, still far too close for comfort, his hand loose around mine now. For once, that cold arrogance he always wore was nowhere to be found. With wide eyes, he looked down at our joined hands, his breath catching slightly in his throat.

I tensed when I saw the tiny ball of silver liquid rolling around in the well of my palm. Quicksilver. Not much. Little more than the size of a pinkie fingernail. But quicksilver all the same. And it was in a liquid state.

I panicked, trying to fling it away, but Fisher gripped hold of my wrist, shaking his head. “So long as I’m touching you, you’re safe. I’m wearing the pendant. It won’t harm us.”

“What are you talking about? It’ll definitely harm us! It just nearly froze me from the inside out!”

“That was nothing. A test. It’s over now. You passed.”

Incredulous, I gaped up at him. “What would have happened if I hadn’t?”

“That’s academic. You did.” “Get it off me, Fisher!” “Make it still,” he said.

“How the fuck—I don’t know how!”

“Close your eyes. Feel it in your mind. Reach for it…”

I did as he said, closing my eyes, trying to remember how to breathe around the knowledge that this tiny bit of quicksilver pooling in my hand was enough to rip apart my mind. I’d seen what it had done to Harron. I was about to curse Kingfisher again, to tell him that I couldn’t feel the cursed silver, but then…I could feel it.

It was a solid weight, resting there, right in the center of my mind. It was nothing. Not hot. Not cold. Not sharp. Not soft. It just was. And it was waiting.

“I feel it,” I whispered.

“Okay. Now tell it what you want. Tell it to sleep.”

I told it exactly that. In my mind, I willed it to still, to go to sleep.

The solid little weight seemed to roll over restlessly.

“No, not sleep. Not now. Slept for too long,” it hissed, an innumerable number of voices all layering over one another.

“Sleep,” I ordered more firmly. This time, it obeyed.

The weight lifted from my mind, disappearing until I felt almost back to normal. Almost, because Fisher was still holding my hands. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at the solid bead of matte, inert metal in my hands, a look of wry amusement on his irritatingly handsome face.

“I have to say, I was expecting that to go differently,” he mused. And then I punched him square in the mouth.

Excerpted from the book QUICKSILVER by Callie Hart. Copyright © 2024 by Callie Hart. Reprinted with permission of Forever, an imprint of Grand Central Publishing. All rights reserved.

Quicksilver, by Callie Hart, will be released on December 3, 2024. To preorder the book, click on the retailer of your choice:

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