Page 38

I bristle at the idea of anyone being in jail, much less unjustly. “We’re also going on our King’s orders. Things have an extra layer of complication there.”

“I bet they do.” His eyebrow raises. “You tell your King we need cooperation moving forward.”

“Is that something people do,” Hunter asks, “just make demands of the King?”

“The Baron King and I go way back.” He laughs, and pushes his chair back, clearly finished with the conversation. “While you’re at it, ask him what kind of gift he wants for his wedding. I hate buying shit off a registry. Too impersonal.”

Lavinia walks back over, Arianette a step behind. The Duchess leans into his side, and he bends down, pressing a kiss just under her ear. “Want some?” she asks, holding up her coffee.

“You know I’m off sugar.” He grins at the two of us. “The first fight of the year is next weekend.”

Shit. I forgot.

Along with a mentally unstable Baroness we can’t fuck, a sweet parking spot, and being hounded by the media, there’s one more perk to being a Royal I’d forgotten about:

Friday Night Fury.

“What did that blue-haired bitch want?”I ask the minute we step outside.

“Moonlight.” She walks quickly between me and Hunter, that little skirt swishing across her thighs.

“What?” Hunter asks, giving me that ‘this bitch is crazy’ look over her head.

“Her hair looks like strands of moonlight.”

Jesus Christ. This day is turning into a clusterfuck. Five minutes after telling her not to speak toanyone,I’d sent her off with the Duchess.

At least I can figure out what the snake dressed in a bear suit wanted from Arianette.

“You didn’t actually say that to her did you?”

The last thing we need is everyone knowing the new Baroness and King's new bride is… off.

“I told her I liked it, and she said she liked my hair too.”

I take a deep breath, doing my best not to lose my temper.

“I need to get to class,” Hunter says, hitching his bag over his shoulder.

“Hunt,” I snap. “Listen to Bruin. Tell that professor to suck your Baron dick. We’ve got bigger problems.”

Those problems keep staring at us as we walk through campus, word having undoubtedly spread about the media in the parking lot, or worse, that we’d had a public sit down with a Duke. Would Bruin have done that with an established Royal with bloodline and legacy? I think the fuck not. The way he spoke to us, the way he talked aboutourgirl. All of it grates my nerves.

But Hunter isn’t having it, and he starts off toward the Engineering building. The lit class that Arianette has been signed up for is in the same direction, so we tag along.

“What else?” I prompt, going back to the Duchess. “What did she say?”

“Bears have sharp teeth. Butterflies have wings. She liked my eyeliner.”

I run my hand through my hair and try not to panic. On one hand, the Baroness isn’t in the state of mind to reveal anything of value. On the other, I’m not sure I’m buying what she’s telling me and the farther we get from the student center, away from Bruin and the Duchess, the more pissed I get. We lookweak. Disrespected. It's not until the third asshole stares down Arianette that I realize another problem.

All of these fuckheads looking at her, eyeing her long, dark legs and that tiny skirt. Wondering what her tits look like under that goddamn modest sweater. She’s mine, I want to scream, ripping off her top to show the whole goddamn student body how she’s been marked by her Barons.

Hunter heads inside and on a whim, I grab her by the upper arm and follow.

“Don’t we have class?” she asks.

“We’re going to support your Baron while he gives his presentation.”