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She stumbles into the compartment, ducking. “What the—”

“Someone’s trying to breach the palace,” I explain. “Stay in here until we come back. Don’t make a fucking sound.”

Panic flickers across her face, green eyes shining up at me. “You’re locking me in here?”

“It’ll be okay,” I say the words so mindlessly that she can’t possibly draw any comfort from them when I close her in. Heart hammering in my chest, I push aside the image of her wide eyes and put on my game face. Not even bothering to dress, I reach under the bed, unlatch the weapons cache, and pull out two guns and a knife.

I start down the hall, mentally getting myself in the right headspace. We’ve trained for this, hours of drills commanded by Father’s security experts. Pace meets me at the top of the staircase, eyes wild. “The alarm went off five minutes ago. Someone tripped a motion sensor outside her room.”

“Yeah, I woke up to the sound of someone trying to get in. I thought it was Lex.” I tuck one gun in the back of my boxer briefs. “Where is he, anyway?”

Pace is dressed much like me, which is to saynot. Boxers and a Glock, the outfit of choice for any Prince at 2 a.m. “He had an overnight shift at the clinic. Father is away at a business meeting in Northridge, and I’ve got Danner locked in. Same with all other staff.” He lifts something in his hand, nodding to the door on our right.

The palace’s skeleton key.

We start down the hall, moving quickly. He unlocks a door, and then I push it open for him to clear the left of the room, his gun raised as I clear the right side. After the last break-in, every ingress has been updated, but anything is possible. Particularly in this wing.

“Didn’t the Duke’s ball boy come in late tonight?” I ask as we descend the staircase. Suspicion thrums in my veins. “Did he bring back friends?”

“No.” Pace shakes his head, eyes scanning the corridor before us. “I saw him come in.”

“But he could have left the gate open, or maybe a window?” I don’t trust those fuckers for a minute. Especially not Maddox. Something about him sets me on edge. “Maybe they’re tired of waiting for her to come back.”

“It’s not him.” Pace stops in front of a door that leads to the fighter’s room. The hand-wench’s room is on the opposite side, connected by a bathroom. “I’ll prove it.”

Using the skeleton key, Pace slides it into the lock, giving me a nod as he pushes it open.

The first thing I see are legs. Long, smooth legs with their soft thighs spread obscenely, a gown rucked up over slender hips. Her head snaps up at the sound of the door opening, a shocked gasp falling from Stella’s lips.

Ballsack’s head is buried between her legs, his mouth full of pussy.

I groan, gesturing limply to the tableau. “Great, so I really am the only one not getting some in this house.” Well, maybe other than Danner.

Frantically, she begins shoving his head out from between her thighs. “Prince Whitaker! Prince Pace! Oh my god…” She springs up, breathless, cheeks red as tomatoes as she tugs the hem of her gown down. “I’m so sorry, I know we shouldn’t—”

“What the hell?” Ballsack stands quickly, his eyes dropping to the guns. “What’s going on?”

“Shut up,” Pace snaps, already coiled tight. This is his worst fucking nightmare. “There’s an intruder on the property.”

I march over to the closet, open the door, and press a lever. The back slides away, and I look at the girl, waving the barrel of my gun at the hole. “Get in. Follow the passage until you get to a dead end. There’s a nail on the left side. Pull it down, and the wall will move. The Princess is on the other side.” I remove a flashlight from the closet’s false floor and offer it to her, along with the knife. “Take this, lock the two of you inside, and stay until someone gets you.”

“Yes, sir.” When she takes the knife, it looks huge in her small hand. God help us. She gives Ballsack a lingering look and vanishes inside.

“You,” I say, walking over to him. “Wipe the pussy off your mouth.” I remove the second pistol from my waistband, turning the butt toward him. He reaches for it, but I don’t release my grip, forcing him to see the threat in my eyes. “Use this against us, and PNZ will burn West End to the ground.” I jerk my head toward the closet. “Including the girl.”

“I hear you,” he says, and I give him the weapon. He slides out the clip, then snaps it back into place. “Who is it?”

“No fucking clue,” Pace says, heading out of the room. “But the zone lighting up was outside the Princess’ room. I have to assume she’s the target. Head up there and guard the room. Protect her like your life depends on it.”

“Got it.” He takes off back upstairs, and we continue to check every inch of the house, every closet, every hidden passage. With every room we clear, the more angry and anxious I get, wanting to be upstairs to make sure everything is okay.

We make our way through the dungeon and solarium, where Pace stops, turning to me with a grim look. “Ready?”

I glance down at his hand, poised over the knob, and pause. This isn’t part of the script. We’re supposed to wait until Father’s security arrives and let them handle the exterior. But it only takes one glimpse of Pace’s dark, murderous eyes to understand he’s not getting out of this situation without some bloodshed.

“Muscles mean strength, Wicker. Power. Security. Protection.”

Apparently, neither am I.