Page 28

God, I’d laugh if it was funny, but this place is a hellscape. “This is my fight. I wish I could say I still follow the original dream, but the truth is, I don’t. I’m doing this because, in less than eight months, I’m having his grandchild. And one of his weapons is going to be the father.” This. This is what runs through my head at night when I can’t sleep. “That’s not a Royalship that ends once we graduate. This is life.”

Understanding, Lavinia adds, “It’s survival.”

Story raises her chin. “Then let us help. What’s the plan?”

“The Princes are his weapons, but they’re not loyal. Not really.” I pull at the front of my shirt, seeking air. “Ashby controls them with an iron fist. There’s no room for rebelliousness, but there are cracks. I’ve seen them.”

I think back to the recording of Lex getting whipped. The way the others fell into line. How they’re programmed to accept abuse from their vile father. But each has shown me small moments where I know they hate the hold he has over them.

Story’s eyes brighten, revealing a glimmer of hope. “You think you can turn them.”

I snort. “Not even remotely.”

“Then we take them out,” Lavinia says matter-of-factly. “What’s their strength in East End? Their last name? Because you’re the real deal.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. It’s not money, influence, or name allegiance that makes the Princes powerful.”

It’s yet another way they’re different from the Lords and Dukes. The Princes don’t think of East End as theirs. It’s an obligation. A duty.

No, their power is entirely internal.

I stop short, realizing. “It’s their bond. They love each other. They’re the only people in this world they’re loyal to. It’s how Ashby manipulates them, by leveraging their fear for one another. It’s why they stay and fight. It’s their weakness.”

“So if you broke their bond…” Lavinia says, forehead creasing in thought.

I smirk, the pieces of a plan falling into place. “I break East End.”

6

Verity

I givea little time for the hallways to clear before stepping out of the bathroom. Walking across campus has turned into a landmine—like an invisible ripple in The Force. Everyone senses it, even if they aren’t a part of it. The PNZ frat boys stumble over themselves the minute I’m in their presence, while the DKS boys glare protectively at anyone who crosses my path. The Lords clearly want to keep a distance from the shit-show, and the Barons couldn’t care less about any of it.

This is driven home when I stumble upon the demoness herself, Regina Thorn, the current Baroness. Of course, the problem isn’t necessarily Regina, who’s leaning against a pillar beside the elevator.

It’s the two Barons currently sucking on either side of her neck.

I snap back around the corner with a grimace, shuffling my feet as I consider taking the stairs up to the studio. But my muscles are sore, and I do enough stair climbing at the Dukes’ loft. Reluctantly, I take another peek hoping they’ll be moving along soon. The last thing I need is for someone in PNZ to see me in proximity to the Royals of yet another rival house.

Unfortunately, Regina looks as though she doesn't have a care in the world.

Her head is tipped back, eyes fluttering as one of the Barons—Liam, I think—nibbles at her ear. On her other side, her second Baron is palming her bare thigh, lifting her skirt. The motion tugs at something within me, the sight of his hands on her flesh like that, so possessive and familiar. It’s like…

Like they’rereallovers.

Liam whispers something into her ear that makes her bite down on her bottom lip, and when he reaches up to grope at her breast, she releases a low, agonized groan.

Both Barons chuckle distractedly, their hands all over her, pulling and squeezing and stroking.

For a moment, I get the strangest vision of being in her place.

Not with the Barons.

With the Princes.

Certainly, Wicker would be the one with his fingers trailing up my inner thigh, dipping beneath my skirt. Pace would be the one teasing my nipple through my top, whispering in my ear about the dirty things he’d be doing to me if we weren’t in public. Only, maybe that’d actually be Lex, memories of his quiet, deep voice teasing me to orgasm down in the palace’s exam room ringing in my mind.

It takes me a long moment to shake out of this… fantasy? Only that’s not quite the right word. Envy, perhaps. Their soft intensity is what I always thought being a house girl would entail, with the passion, pleasure, and intimacy.