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“And you?”

His jaw is set. “I’ll rest when I find out exactly who tried to fuck with what’s mine.”

15

Verity

I don’t knowhow long I stand in the dark, back pressed against the wall, nothing but the sound of my heartbeat to keep me company. It feels like an eternity before I hear anything, but even though I’m hoping for a thump, a voice,anything, the sound of approaching footsteps makes me stiffen in terror.

The hiding spot Wicker shoved me into is the size of a coat closet, with only a tiny sliver of light coming through the baseboards. I have no weapon. No fucking clue what’s going on. I didn’t even know this hidey-hole was here, right behind the bed.

A scrape comes, but not from outside.

From behind me.

Twisting my head, I silently wrap one hand over my stomach and ball the fist of the other. Maybe it’s a mouse. God, let it be a mouse. I grip the flashlight tightly, wrapping my fingers around the heavy metal shaft.

There’s a snap, and then an awfulcreak, and suddenly I’m blinded by a bright beam of light. “Princess?” I slacken at the sound of Stella’s frightened voice, raising my flashlight to see her. She’s holding a flashlight too, much like mine.

And also, a massive knife.

“Jesus,” I exhale, my heart threatening to explode out of my chest. “It’s you.”

“This place is like a maze.” She quickly closes the hatch, snapping the wall back into place. “Are you okay?”

I point the flashlight away, letting it bounce off the walls. “I’m fine. Just…” I don’t know how I feel. Scared? Worried? I look down at my hand on my stomach and wonder when I started doing that. “What’s going on out there?”

She crouches down beside me, our shoulders brushing. “Princes Pace and Whitaker are searching for the intruder,” she whispers. “I was told to come here and wait with you.”

I nod, glad to know they took care of her. “Where’s Ballsy?”

“Close, I think,” she says, looking away. “After they told me to come in the passage, I heard Prince Whitaker ordering him to guard your room.”

“So I guess we wait.” I gesture to the floor, and we both slide down, knees bent and cramped together.

We sit quietly for another long moment, listening but unable to hear anything. The wall of my bedroom is insulated heavily—clearly meant to keep anyone from discovering someone hiding inside.

“They seemed very in control,” Stella reassures, holding the knife so the light reflects off the sharp blade. “Like they were prepared. I’m sure it’ll only be a few more minutes. Probably a false alarm.”

But I doubt that. “They’ve had break-ins before. Someone vandalized the nursery a couple of years back.”

I wait for her shocked reaction to something so awful, but instead, she giggles. “I heard about that. It was quite the drama at the Hideaway. It’s not confirmed, but my sister thinks it was Dimitri Rathbone and his Lady.”

“Story?” Wow. Wicker called it.

Stella’s shoulder grazes mine when she shrugs. “That’s the rumor. I mean, there area lotof rumors that go through the Hideaway, especially about the Royals.”

Since this seems like a good avenue to distraction, I turn, wondering, “What do they say about the Princes and their Princess?”

“About… you?”

Hearing the confusion in her voice, I shake my head. “No, I mean in general. Everything I thought I knew about this Royalship was wrong, and I’m pretty sure no one else knew either, you know?”

Stella hums, tapping the knife against the floor. “Just the usual, I suppose. Everyone thinks the Princes are just weak pretty boys with too much money and hair gel,” she says. “No one had ever heard of the throning, or the deposits, or—gosh, definitely not the cleansing. Although it explains some of the Hideaway’s PNZ clientele.”

After a beat, I ask, “Have you… told anyone? About what’s really happening?”

She turns, her big eyes blinking at me. “Only when I had to, Princess.”