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I grip my gun tighter, nodding. “Let’s go.”

He pushes the door to the gardens open, snapping his gun up to scan the area before crouching down. Together we move along the southern wall toward the Princess’ room. The trees are steady and still, not even a breeze to contaminate the silence, and thorny vines scrape the bottom of my bare feet. The adrenaline has my senses on a razor’s edge. Even in the dark, everything feels crisp and sharp, little puffs of steam punching from my mouth into the cold night air. Pace stalks ahead, hunched over like I am, but when we reach the western wall, he jerks his head, motioning me to clear the corner for him.

I duck around him, flattening myself to the stone wall. Holding my breath, I peer around the edge before jolting along the wall, gun raised toward her window.

Fuck.

There’s nothing out here. Just shivering roses and moonlight. I’m going to be so pissed when we find out it was just a raccoon or some shit.

Just as I deflate, exhaling a cloud of mist, a deafeningcrackrings out.

I spin so fast that I stumble, panic rising in my chest when I realize Pace isn’t behind me. I lurch up, all thoughts of remaining hidden dissipating as my feet pound painfully against the bramble. “Pace?!”

Anothercrackpierces the silence, and then a third, and by the time I reach the corner where I’d left him, I’m fully expecting to see my brother in a pile of dead leaves, riddled with ragged holes.

Instead, I’m greeted by the sight of him in the garden, crouched behind a statue, pulling the trigger a fourth time. “Fuck!” he spits, turning to press his back against the marble. “I got the fucker. I know I did!”

“You saw him?” I ask, rushing to his position. Only when I’m pressed against him, shoulder to shoulder, do I finally look him over, collapsing in relief at the realization all the shots came from Pace’s gun. “Who was it?”

He’s reloading, face set into a scowl. “Couldn’t fucking see. He was fifty yards out, going into the trees.” Again, he stresses, “I got him.”

But when he goes to run out toward the trees, I grab him, yanking him back. “If you shot him, he won’t get far. Let the paid team bat cleanup.”

His eyes are black, burning into mine. “I want that motherfucker in the dungeontonight.”

“Then get up there and do your thing,” I say, pushing him toward the house. “Search him out. We’re not running into the woods in the dead of night to chase an armed intruder without at least some fucking shoes.”

He lowers his gun, knowing I’m right. “Motherfucker,” he growls, trudging back to the solarium.

By the time we get back inside, some of Father’s security has already congregated at the front door. Thad, who Father recruited to head the palace’s exterior security, is a massive former goalie who once captained the Forsyth hockey team. Unlike us, he’s dressed in black tactical gear and moves quietly around the property like a ghost. Seeing him like this only confirms how unusual this is.

“The grounds are clear,” he tells us when he returns, holding up a long cable with a hook on the end. “Whoever it was came in through the southern grounds and made an attempt to secure entrance on the second floor.”

“That must be what woke me up,” I say, nodding at the hook. “How many?”

“From the footsteps, possibly two. Obviously, they didn’t realize the windows are fortified.” He points toward the west. “We found the blood trail in the woods—your boy definitely got a hit—but it leads right to the brook.”

Behind me, Pace spits a curse. “He escaped.”

Thad sighs, nodding. “Unfortunately, that looks to be the case.”

“Shore up everything,” Pace barks. “The fencing, the windows, every goddamn weakness on the perimeter.”

“Yes, sir.”

Back upstairs, Pace strides into his room and goes straight to the monitors. “Whoever this fucker is, he had to leave some kind of trace. If he lost blood, he could have lost something else.”

“You don’t think this is retaliation for the cleansing fallout?” I ask, watching him scan the feeds, the screen reflecting back in his dark eyes. I see the glint of his paranoia ratcheting up. This is going to be hard for him to let go of until he’s found out who made the attempt. “One of our own?”

“They’re pissed but not stupid.”

Honestly, I’d rather it be someone inside, because an outside enemy making a move this bold… there are too many variables to consider.

“What do you need me to do?” I ask, feeling the adrenaline waning.

“Get back to her.” He never looks away from the screen. “Stay with her all night.”

I nod, for once not angry about doing my duty.