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Story: Princes of Ash

The relief on Mama B’s face is short-lived. “I want to talk to her doctor.”

Lex blinks. “Youaretalking to her doctor.”

“Like hell I am,” she snaps. “I’m talking to a boy whose Daddy lets him play dress-up to circumvent real standards.”

I expect Lex to argue with her—start listing his credentials, maybe—but he just looks resigned, dragged down by exhaustion. “Doctor Munson is the OB on call,” he mutters, staring at his hands. “You can speak to her when you go in.”

This brings Mama B up short, her gaze flicking to Perilini. “I can see Verity?”

“Room seventeen.” He nods to the door, then adds, “She wants to see the Duchess, too.”

Wicker and I share a look that’s so much more complicated than disappointment. It saysit should be us going in there. We’re her Princes. This hospital—the best in Forsyth—is inourterritory.

But we’ve spent all day—all week—laboring to get free of those titles.

It’s a specific invitation that only means one thing.

Verity doesn’t want to see us.

Once Mama B and Lavinia are behind the double doors, Wick turns to Lex, asking, “Did you see her?”

“Not for very long.” Lex rubs the back of his neck, grimacing. “She’s… upset.”

“Did you get to check on the baby,” I ask, scooting closer. “Like a scan, or sonogram or something?”

“Jesus Christ,” Nick mutters, the disdain rolling off him in waves. “That’s really all you fuckers care about, isn’t it? Your precious heir?”

Lex comes alive, every ounce of exhaustion fading as he turns on Bruin. “Her last words to me were to save our son!” Leaping from his seat, he takes a prowling step closer. “So yeah, I care about it, and if you don’t, then you can fucking leave.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Sy says, pushing Nick aside and going toe to toe with Lex. “You tried to break our contract tonight when you attempted to leave Forsyth.”

There’s a long, tense silence. Because once we reveal the reason behind us leaving, we’re opening the door to parts of our lives in the palace we can’t shut again. I’m still trying to figure out how much to say, and how to say it when Wicker jumps in.

“Verity and the baby aren’t safe in the palace right now.” He looks up at the Dukes, and I can see how much it costs him to put that knowledge out there. Wicker has been trained to keep up appearances, to never show cracks. Right now, this crack looks like a goddamn fault line. “We know that. She knows that. But despite what happened earlier tonight, they’re our responsibility.Oursto take care of. Not yours.”

“If you can’t keep her safe from threats, externalorinternal,” Nick fixes him with a look, those big, tattooed arms crossing over his chest, “then she needs to be with people who are up to the job. That’s why she’s coming back with us.”

I bolt forward. “Verity and our son will leave with you dirtbags over my dead body.”

“Stop!” Ballsack steps between us, his expression tight with disbelief. “You’re not fighting over a goddamn doll here. Verity is a person, and you broke the terms of the contract. That means she gets to decide where she goes.” He gives us a warning look. “Don’t make me call Killian Payne in to mediate your dick-measuring contest.”

I pause.

The last thing this situation needs is another Royal house interfering.

Everyone else must agree because we all wander stiffly, resentfully, back to our respective corners of the waiting room, taking a seat to wait a little more.

I watch the next thirty minutes pass on the clock across the room, its second hand spinning relentlessly. Beside me, Lex’s eyelids are slumping, but never closing. Every twitch, every sound, has his eyes jerking to the double doors.

The tension I feel is less about the Dukes or Father, or anything else.

What’s the point of any of it if we lose her?

29

Verity

“Does it hurt?”Lavinia asks. She’s hovering on my right, almost like she’s afraid to touch me.

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