Page 11

Story: Princes of Ash

Wicker coughs, and for a second, I think he may actually gag at the implication of a sexual relationship between Father and Liberty Sinclaire. Verity also looks queasy, but that could be the pregnancy hormones. Still, it’s impossible not to look at the two of them without considering the intimacy of their relationship. Asecretrelationship.

The three of us spent last night doing the math.

Before becoming Princes, there were no parameters on who we fucked—as long as we wore a condom. But we still mainly stuck to East Side pussy because it’d been drilled into us that good breeding was the most important thing to practice. We knew only to place our seed where it would be nourished by someone worthy.

Liberty Sinclaire is not worthy.

Yet… Father chose her. He had unprotected sex with her. He created a child with her. His child is now carrying one of our children.

It’s fucking depraved.

Without wanting to, my gaze darts to Verity. I hate how my body reacts to her, the thud of my heart in my chest, and the rush of blood to my cock. It’s a biological nuisance. She’s the only woman who’s gotten me hard and kept me that way through completion in months.

That doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.

Mama B takes her daughter’s hand and leans in close. “Remember what King Payne said, okay, baby? You have power here. If someone hurts you,” she glances directly at me, “you can stab them.”

You can fucking try.

At Verity’s stiff nod, her mother sighs, dropping her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The sense that things aren’t exactly kosher between the two of them distracts me for a moment. And a glance at Wicker suggests that the cut of Mama B’s neckline distracts him.

I kick out, catching his ankle.

He jerks upright, brows knitting together. “Tomorrow? What happens tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Mama B says, leveling an unimpressed stare at Wicker, “my little girl is coming home where she can be protected and pampered by men who know how to take care of a woman.”

With the final jab thrown, Mama B strides out, her pointed heels clacking against the hardwoods.

* * *

From my cornerin the pitch-black room, I wait.

There are very few places in this palace where someone can sit with their thoughts and know they’re not being watched by someone or another. One of them is the solarium out back. The other is the exam room in the basement, where I’m currently occupying my usual stool, arms folded, eyes fixed on the pane of the glass in the door.

It’s how I see her blurry silhouette approaching from the hallway.

She’s four minutes late.

The sound of the knob turning shatters the silence, and then she’s pushing through. There’s a moment of apprehension—this place is usually lit up like an operating room—before she shuffles her way inside. I hear more than see her feeling the wall beside the door for the light switch.

When she finds it, the room explodes with quick, buzzing fluorescent light, and then she spins, her eyes snapping to mine.

“Holy fucking—!” Gasping, she clutches her chest, eyes wide. When I just stare at her, unblinking, she visibly forces the frightened tension in her spine to abate. “You—you startled me.”

I bite down on the wad of gum I’ve been chewing for the last thirty-four minutes. Nicotine. It's as close to a stimulant as I can get at this hour. “Undress.”

Verity freezes. She’s wearing a deep blue, soft-looking sweater and dark-wash jeans. If she thinks her dress code as a Princess was strict before, she’s about to discover my father’s—herfather’s,fuck—standards rise exponentially once fertilization has occurred.

She shrinks back, and even though her chin rises in a show of bluster, I see her green eyes flick to the exam table. “What for? There won’t be any more deposits.”

My jaw works around the piece of gum, the flavor of it faint now. “You think I wanted you naked before because it got my dick hard?”

The words are spoken low and harsh, and it makes her eyes tighten. “So you just want to humiliate me,” she decides, teeth clenched. “Again.”

“You think a lot of yourself.” My eyes narrow as I speak to her like a child. “I need to examine your body. Pregnancy doesn’t just happen in your uterus.”

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