Page 118

Story: Princes of Ash

“For them!” She shouts back, gesturing to the gym where the guys are training. “I trained you for one another. I knew even being with a Duke wouldn’t be easy, but it wouldn’t be…” She can’t say it. However much she knows about my time in East End, she can’t admit it, but she knows it’s been hard. More than hard. A literal nightmare. “That man is evil. He isvile. And you can see what he’ll do if you share his blood. He doesn’t have family, Verity; he has possessions.” Her eyes flick to my belly, darkening. “And that baby doesn’t belong to you. It belongs tohim.”

Tell that to Lex, I want to say. Or Pace, who looked so eager to see me name the life growing inside of me. My Princes—or two of them—are consumed with the idea of fatherhood. Do I think they’ll be good at it? No. At least, not yet. I’d meant what I’d said to Pace that day in the solarium. His flaw is being too protective, but that doesn’t come from a place of malice, does it? And Lex… he has this intensity about him. He’s devoted to this child. I can feel it.

They will fight for their son.

But I know my mother won’t listen to that. The Princes are an extension of their father, if not by nature, then by nurture.

“He told me about the hurricane.” It’s almost imperceptible, the way she stiffens. “About your… night together.”

Her jaw tics. “I very much doubt what he told you resembles the truth.”

I put my spoon down, the sound loud in the stillness between us. “Then you tell me. Tell me the truth for once in your life.” I place my hand on my stomach. “How am I supposed to make smart decisions if I have no idea what’s actually going on? It’s too late to protect me, but maybe if you’ll stop covering up the past, you can help me protect my child.”

Her palm lands on the table, her talon-like nails digging into the top. Even before all of this, my mother was a steel trap, keeping her personal life sacred and hidden. It was easy to do in a gym full of men who probably never thought of her as more than the mama bear to their den of cubs. And even the cutsluts viewed her more as an authority figure than one of the girls.

But now, with this little human growing in me, I see her differently. I see her as a woman. The same kind of woman I am now. Acreator. I just want to know that person. How she became the woman in front of me.

“There was a hurricane,” she says, jaw tight. “That much is true. The river breached the banks, spilling into the streets, sweeping trees and cars with it. The whole city had been told to evacuate, but when did the Royals ever listen to caution? So the Barons’ King opened up the crypt, inviting everyone to shelter down in the catacombs. A hurricane party,” she says, barking out a mangled laugh. “Any excuse to cross territory lines, drink, and get a little fucked up with the enemy.”

“Everyone was there?” I press when her eyes get foggy, faraway.

She shakes her head. “Davis and Manny had left by then. Sarah, too. They were off building their own lives, outside the Royalty. There were so many new Kings back then,” she muses, brows knitting together. “Not just Saul, who had barely started working for the university, but also Daniel Payne. He’d taken over the Lords just a couple of weeks earlier. And then there was Lionel Lucia, who’d taken over North Side a couple of years before that. And Rufus… he wasn’t King yet, but we all felt it was coming. His uncle was sick.” She looks at me, raising her chin. “It was an exciting time. New blood. Youth taking the city back from the decrepit monsters who once held their leashes. I think you understand now how that feels. Not just the energy, but the sense that Forsyth is balanced on the edge of a knife. What will it be? Revolution, or more of the same?”

Stomach twisting, I guess, “It was more of the same, wasn’t it?”

She picks at a fingernail, shrugging. “It’s hard to explain, but back then, I was… adrift. I wasn’t Royal, and I was getting too old to be a cutslut. But this,” she gestures overhead, to the gym, or maybe even West End as a whole, “this was all I knew. I wasn’t ready to walk away from it—to stand on my own.” Her eyes meet mine, pleading, “You know what I mean, don’t you? How easy it is to cling to this?”

Slowly, I nod, because I get it. West End is more than a phase. In many ways, it’s grafted into our bones.

She leans back, face twisting. “I didn’t expect Rufus Ashby to be there. Everyone knew his wife had a toddler. He made sure both of them were out of the way.” Snidely, she adds, “He would’ve held a goddamn parade in that kid’s honor if the Mayor would’ve approved it. Apparently, he made sure they were somewhere safe, outside of Forsyth, and then he slinked in, wet and windblown, just before they sealed the doors, locking us in.” She pauses then, eyes locking with mine. “Do you really want to know this, Verity?”

I nod without reservation. “Yes.”

She almost looks stricken at the answer, folding her arms around her middle. “It was… cold down there. Clammy. A little damp.” She runs her hands up and down her arms like she’s back in that time and place. “Dust covered everything. That place is a maze, all these little nooks and tunnels. When Rufus offered me a drink from his flask to warm up, I took it, but I wasn’t drunk.” Her eyes hold mine. “I said no.”

Uneasiness unfurls in my stomach. “You mean he…”

But I can’t say the word.

She averts her gaze, a grim smile touching her lips. “It’s probably hard now to imagine his charm back then, but he had it in spades. A little bit like your blonde Prince, actually. He easily got me away from the other cutsluts and the protection of DKS. It wasn’t hard. It was crowded and dark, and Saul had lost interest in me, just like the rest of the frat. People were fooling around. Making out, having sex. It felt like we were at the edge of the world, chaos above us, emptiness below.” The muscles in her throat tighten. “There were other Royals there. He took me right up against a stone wall, ten feet away from Jacob Oakfield, his hand clamped over my mouth as he explained to me that his wife couldn’t fulfill his needs. She was too occupied with caring for their son, you see.” She looks away, blinking rapidly. “Apparently, that gave him the right to take whatever he wanted. And the others…” A shiver wracks through her. “Honestly, I couldn’t name them all if I tried. Daniel Payne, certainly. Clive Kayes. Maybe even Lucia. There must have been half a dozen, but maybe more. Too many to fight. At some point, I blocked it out.”

“Mom,” I say, choking out her name past the lump in my throat. “I didn’t know.”

“Because I didn’twantyou to know,” she snaps, visibly trying to regain her composure. “Being a woman in Forsyth teaches you that your body is never your own. I wish I could say Rufus was the only man that took what he wanted from me. What Icansay is that he’s the only one who left something behind more important than life itself.”

I wrap my arm around my stomach. “How did… why didn’t you…” I can’t say the words, but I need to know.

“Why didn’t I terminate?” She shrugs, eyes devoid of emotion. “I thought about it. Even made the appointment up in Northridge. But I couldn’t do it. For once in my life, one of these men gave me something that was mine and mine alone.” Reaching over, she takes my hand, some of the color returning to her cheeks. “You were a gift, Verity. My lifeline. You gave me the guts to stop playing around and become someone. A mama. Not just to you, but to a whole den.”

“I thought about it, too,” I confess, my own eyes welling. “For a minute.”

Her face collapses at the admission. “Baby, all I ever wanted…” Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she holds my gaze. “All I everneededwas to know you would never be the girl against that cold wall, scared and lost.” She tightens her grip, her voice as hard as steel. “Verity, if you want out of this, tell me. I’ll make it happen. I was powerless then, but I’m not now. I’ve been collecting leverage for years. I can burn East End to the fucking ground.”

I don’t doubt her, but…

“I don’t want out of it.” I swallow and move her hand, pressing it against my stomach. “It’s a boy.”

“Oh, Ver,” she whispers, wide eyes fixed on my belly. “That’s exactly what he wants.”

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