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“Pace.” Swallowing, I wonder, “When can I take it out?”

His palm stops rubbing my belly, only to reach over and curl around my hip, yanking me impossibly closer to the cradle of his body. “The next time I fuck you,” he answers, voice hard.

“And then what?”

“Then I’ll put it back in.” His finger touches my chin, drawing my gaze to his. “Every drop of me is meant for you, Verity.”

In another time and place those words would maybe seem romantic, but here, with his cold gaze on me, and the intrusion in my body? I hear them for what they are; a threat.

“Thank you for doing this,”I say, looking over at Stella. We’re in a shitty old Honda that smells like mildew and oil. Every bump is jarring, reminding me of the plug still trapping Pace’s release inside. Even so, it feels infinitely more familiar than the luxury vehicles the Princes drive. “I realized that I left something at the gym last night and wanted to pick it up before it got put into the lost and found.”

“Of course, Princess.” Her hands grip the steering wheel, smile as sunny as ever. “I’m happy to help out in any way.”

Stella hadn’t blinked when I asked her to drive me back to the gym. I’m not allowed to move about freely, not without a chaperone, but Stella apparently fits the description well enough, because no one had batted an eye.

I still shiver at the memory of Pace in my bed this morning, his long, lithe body stretched across my bed as he slept. We fell asleep there, and he’d only taken the plug out of me once, rousing me from slumber as he curled in behind me and eased it out of my hole, only to replace it with his hard cock. His second deposit was made slowly enough that I only remember it in flashes of dark brown skin and the vague sense of being jostled whenever he’d deign to make an actual thrust. When I woke up, hours later, the plug was back.

The way I’d had to tiptoe out of there for fear of waking him was all at once old and new.

He’s never slept in front of me before.

“You need to turn—” I start, but her blinker is already on, and she makes the turn with no direction. “Oh, you know the shortcut?”

Stella sends a beaming smile my way. “Oh, yeah! My sister showed me. She knows Forsyth like the back of her knees. She actually used to take me to Furies sometimes.”

There’s one tonight, but I plan to be in and out long before it starts. It’s stupid for me to come like this, but after last night with Pace, I have to do something.

My knee bounces as we get deeper into Duke territory. My hands run up and down my thighs. The Honda’s air vents are barely sputtering out any warmth, but I still feel a prickle of sweat on my neck.

Stella glances over. “Princess, can I ask what’s got you more anxious than a jackrabbit? That’s usually more my thing.”

I blow out a tense breath, watching out the window as the clock tower grows closer. “I left my phone at home. It’s just weird.” It, and my watch, are under my pillow. Abruptly, I confess. “I told Danner we were going to the stationary shop to pick out invitations for the Valentine’s Day party, and this isnotthe store. If they find out—”

“They won’t.” Her reply is chipper and full of a certainty that nearly makes me think less of her.

“You can’t know that,” I argue. “These guys—”

“They’re Royals. They get away with literal murder. I know.” She gives me a tight, less cheery smile. “I’ll get you in and out. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

We pull up to the back door and someone is already there, waiting. A man. Head bowed, cigarette hanging from his lips.

Ballsack.

Glancing up, he doesn’t look surprised to see the car pull up. Nor does he looked surprised at the people inside of it. “Do you—did you…” I look between her and Ballsack, who’s stubbing out the ember of his cigarette. “What am I missing?”

Stella lets out a tense giggle. “Remember when Eugene got picked up by the Princes?”

I frown. “Who’s Eugene?”

She gestures to Ballsack, who waves in return. My mind reels, trying to process the fact Ballsack has a real name, and that Stella knows him. I quickly shake that loose.

“Yeah, I remember seeing him after being captured by the Princes. What about it?”

Her grin tips into a wicked slant. “He was caught smuggling me in.”

“Into East End? Why?” But slowly it all clicks into place, my jaw going slack. This is all part of some bigger plan. Stella and Ballsack, their entrance into East End, coincides with the masquerade and my throning. He smuggled Stella in forme, and the only person that would do that is…

“Shit,” I curse, back straightening. “God. Turn around. Now!”