Page 5

Story: Princes of Ash

Coolly adjusting his shirt cuff, Ashby greets, “Libby,” and my shocked gaze whips to him. It’s a name I’ve only heard once or twice in conjunction with my mother and never by anyone who wasn’t a close confidant. “Sorry, you missed the ceremony, it was really quite beaut—”

His words are cut off when my mother, dressed in tight spandex pants cuffed with leopard print and a low-cut matching shirt, strides up to the King and slaps him across the cheek.

I hear a gasp, then realize it came from me.

“You rat fucking bastard,” she seethes.

Hardly looking fazed, Ashby tilts his head at Danner. “Prepare the conference room.” He then chuckles, rubs his jaw, and adds, “I always forget just how cliché your West End temperament can be.”

My mother lunges, and that’s what draws the Princes out of their shocked lull. Pace grabs her around her upper body, wrenching her back. “Hands off, jailbird,” Nick growls, grabbing Pace by the shoulder and spinning him around. Faster than I doubt anyone could react, he has his pistol drawn, barrel pressed to Pace’s temple.

Ashby gestures to Nick. “Point proven.”

My mother goes for him again, but this time, Sy is there, trying to pull her back to the invisible line that separates East and West. Unfortunately for him, she came wearing her signature spiked heels, and all it takes is one tactical stomp to have him roaring in surprise.

“What the fuck, Mama B!” he shouts, hopping on one foot.

Meanwhile, Remy marches straight up the aisle toward me, eyes bouncing around, andfuck. There’s already been enough blood involved with this ceremony. The last thing I want is more, especially if it’s theirs, and judging from all the PNZ members springing to their feet, that’s exactly how this will go down.

“Stop!” I shout, holding up my hands, probably looking like a lunatic in this blood-stained dress. Okay, there’s no probably. “Nick, put the goddamn gun down.” His blue eyes flick to mine, narrowing, and I wonder for a second if I even have any right. Maybe they saw that video and are done with me. Maybe I’m not worth making peace over anymore. Maybe I’m damaged goods.

But suddenly, he huffs, relaxing his elbow and dropping the barrel.

Strangely enough, I actually feel I have more sway with the dark-eyed man currently snarling at my mother. “And Pace, don’t you ever fucking touch my mother again!”

A shadow crosses the doorway—Danner returning. “The conference room is ready,” he says in that quiet, stoic voice, as though nothing is out of place.

Ashby, unshaken as always, makes a sweeping gesture toward the door. “So let’s begin the negotiations, shall we?”

* * *

In the quietof the conference room, my mother avoids my gaze. I’m pregnant, carrying her first grandchild, and she can’t even make eye contact. The Dukes are bad enough, but my face feels bloodless at the notion she’s seen the video of my ruin.

That idea from before of being a stranger in my own skin is something I embrace now. Let this thing inside of me have the churning shame of it while I hide in a dark corner.

“Thank you, Killian, for being here on such short notice,” Ashby says from the seat at one end of the table. “Normally, we have the Baron King witness such things between our houses, but he was unavailable.”

Killian Payne sits at the other end, an aggrieved expression on his face. I don’t blame him. Who wants to get involved in this shit-show? My mother and Sy sit on opposite sides of the table from me, but Remy, Nick, and all three of my Princes have been left outside in the hallway, under strict instruction to keep it civil. Dimitri Rathbone is the peacemaker. God help us all.

While we waited for Killian to arrive, I had time to change, having Stella help me out of the heavy lace and into something less bloody and symbolic. Now, I’m withering under the weight of the tension.

“It’s unfortunate that you had to interrupt our ceremony this evening with such a dramatic entrance,” Ashby starts, gesturing to Danner in the corner. He’s holding a stack of folders in his hands. “It’s as if you didn’t trust me to carry out these negotiations as planned.”

“We didn’t.” Sy stares at him, and there’s a sharpness to his gaze that I’m not used to seeing. “You shouldn’t have made her sign anything before this meeting.”

Danner walks around the table, passing a folder to each of us while Ashby continues. “I’ve already taken the liberty—” a pause while Ashby smirks at my mother, “pardon the term—of writing up the next phase of our agreement. I’m sure you’ll understand that it must adhere to the principles of the Princess’ previously agreed upon covenants.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Sy grinds out. “This is a negotiation, Ashby, which means both parties give and take.” There’s a second where Sy’s gaze flicks to me; blink, and you’d miss it, and I shrink back into my seat.

“I don’t see how much leverage you have, Perilini. The Princess is carrying my heir, which, by extension, rightfully makes her my property.”

“Like fucking hell,” Mom snaps, eyes flaring.

Ashby ignores the outburst. “The covenant has been signed and sealed.” He looks down at the table. “Maybe it’s best if Killian reads over the proposals—an unbiased participant.”

Killian sighs, and I get the feeling he’d throttle Ashby with his bare, heavily tattooed hands if he had the chance, but he flips open the folder and begins reading instead. “The Princess will continue to visit West End, one day a week, under supervision, for the duration of her pregnancy. She will live in the safety of the palace with her Princes and will continue her education at the university to the best of her ability and health. East End will provide all healthcare and emotional support needed during this time. Yadda yadda, at any point, if the strain of these things poses a risk to the child, all activities will cease.” He takes a breath and looks up at my mother. “Liberty Sinclaire may attend one doctor visit, host a baby shower, and will receive notice at the time of birth. Verity Sinclaire and child will be available for visitation three days post birth.”

“You’ve lost your fucking mind.” My mother’s voice is clear and unwavering.

Table of Contents