Page 77

Story: Princes of Ash

His bloodshot eyes bug out. “I sent you ice!”

“That wasn’t an apology.” I rise off the bed, ignoring Pace’s cum as it drips down my leg, likely leaving a trail on the rug. Grabbing Pace’s hoodie off the floor, I feel their eyes on my spent body as I pull it over my arms and zip up the front. “Thatwas like Pace said. You were covering your ass.”

Pace tilts my head until he can see my face, his jaw hard as stone. “But you lied for him, too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I jerk away, glowering. “I told you he didn’t fuck me. I said I hit my head on the nightstand.” I look between them, scoffing. “Face it. The two of you were so hell-bent on getting laid that you believed what you wanted.Youdecided I lied.Youdecided he betrayed you. You never cared what I had to say about it!”

We all know the truth. They were just looking for an excuse to get their dicks wet.

Wicker’s lips pull up into a sneer. “So that’s what happened? I shouldn’t even be surprised.”

Lex has already crossed the room, sliding his fingers under my jaw and twisting my face as he searches for any lingering remnants of the injury. He already checked out the bump, but he and Pace were so incensed at the thought of Wicker fucking me, he never had the chance to check the bruise underneath. Even though his amber eyes are anguished, I know it’s not meant for me. He’s berating himself for missing it. Even in the exam room, Pace was the one who noticed the knot.

“The bruise was small,” I bite out, letting him inspect me. “It was forever ago. Like Wicker said, it was just an accident.”

Wicker begins a tight, frustrated pacing. “I knew you’d freak the fuck out if you found out that I—accidentally—hurt her. So I didn’t elaborate.”

“You’re goddamn right about that,” Lex seethes, turning his eyes on his brother. “She’s carrying our baby. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you, but it does to me and Pace, and it sure as hell means something to Father.” His thumb rubs over the healed spot, angry eyes assessing. “Although the female body is strong and resilient, there’s also a fragility here.” Releasing me, he approaches Wicker, a cold demeanor settling on his features as he snatches his arm, stilling him. They’re face to face, and I think for a second Lex may actually turn violent. “You touch her like that again, and I’ll take action against you myself.”

Wicker, clearly aware he’s crossed a line, holds back the retort that’s on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he nods, eyes tight. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Lex rakes his fingers through his hair, collecting himself with a steeling inhale. “All of this stays here. In this room. No one needs to know about it. Not Danner, not Father, and absolutely no one in the frat. Not after all the shit that’s gone down this week. We need to keep everything locked tight.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Pace says, eyes rolling. “Poor little frat boys lost their girlfriends. I’m sure the East End florists will take a financial hit, but I fail to see why I should give a fuck.”

“Because the frat makes us!” Lex snaps.

“What’s wrong with the frat?” I ask, picking up on a vibe I can’t quite place.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Wicker says, dismissively.

Ignoring his brother, Pace turns to me, reaching up to tug at the zipper on my—his—hoodie. “Your little retaliation on The Court had fallout,” he says, skating the zipper down a few inches. His dark gaze follows, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Now everyone’s balls are blue, and it’s turned them into little bitches.”

I’d been iced out completely at school last week, which wasn’t a surprise. Not after the spa on April Fools’. “What kind of fallout?”

Lex rubs the back of his neck, looking away. “The girls were pissed about the cleansing, and they’ve been giving their guys hell about it all week. Breakups left and right. Property damage. Threats. Cheating.”

“It’s been a real shit show,” Pace adds.

Thinking about this, I can’t help the way my face brightens, lips pulling into a smile. “Excellent.”

“It’s not excellent, Red,” Wicker says, eyes narrowed. “It makes us look like we don’t have control—of our fratorour Princess. It makes us lookweak.”

“Weak?” Pulling away from Pace, I march right up to Wicker, fuming. “You want to know why those East End bitches came after me?”

“Because it's tradition!”

“Because of you!” I explode, whirling my gaze on Lex and Pace. “All three of you! You’ve shown East End that it’s acceptable. That their Princess is trash and should be treated like it.” It comes pouring out of me like an avalanche. “Day after day. Event after event. Wicker sneers at me on campus. Lex doesn’t even acknowledge me until I’m on his exam table. Pace won’t dare glance at me—not when he can look at me on a camera. They see injuries. They see contempt. They see Ballsack—a fucking West Ender—spending more time with me than my own goddamn Princes. But mostly?” I add, voice halfway to hysteria. “Mostly, they see the throning and the cleansing. They see you hurting me, again and again, because that’s the only way any of you psychos know how to handle a woman!”

I pull in a long, hard breath, trying to get this maelstrom of emotions in check.

“Everything you’ve put me through publicly has given the implication that the mother of your precious heir isn’t worth any respect. And if you don’t respect me,” I ask, challenging them all with a look, “then why the hell should they?”

The room is silent as that settles over the three of them.

“Precious heir…”Effie croons.

“See?” I snort, crossing. “Even the bird knows it.”

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