Page 24

Ashby holds my gaze for a long moment before sliding his gaze to Pace, who’s frozen stiff, somewhere in the middle of dunking his toast into a puddle of red jam. He straightens, an odd cautiousness in his posture. “We were up all night moving,” Pace says, glaring at his toast. “I haven’t set up her email yet.”

I look around the table, realizing now how exhausted the three of them look.

Ashby’s only response is a long, disconcerting stare.

Pace drops his fork. “It took a while to get Effie settled down. I didn’t even get my computers into the Palace until a couple hours ago,” he insists, glancing at his brothers. After a suspended pause, Pace stands, huffing. “I’ll do it now.”

Anxiety prickles the back of my neck at the fury in his eyes, and I stammer out, “I-it can wait.”

But before Pace can answer, the phone beside his plate glows to life, chiming loudly. His expression giving nothing away, Pace swipes it up, tapping at the screen. His eyes harden at whatever he sees there. “There’s someone attempting to breach the front gate.” His gaze slides to Lex. “I use the word ‘breach’ very lightly.”

“Who is it?” Lex asks, tossing his cloth napkin on the table and pushing his chair out.

Pace’s eyes meet mine. “Looks like your feral gutter rats came looking for you.”

Startled, I ask, “My… what?” But that can only mean one thing.

The Dukes.

Shit.

The boys all jump up, but I’m frozen as I watch them parade out of the room, their strides strong and worryingly confident. The Dukes, as much as I love them, aren’t exactly known for their subtlety and restraint. Even if they have weapons, they’re still on someone else’s territory.

Double shit.

Looking at me, Ashby dabs his mouth with the napkin, saying, “You may want to get your cubs under control, Princess. There are consequences for this kind of thing, you realize.”

“Y-yes, sir,” I say, rising as quickly as I can with the limitations of my lower body. Adjusting the tiara, I try to follow the path his sons took, making two wrong turns before I finally find the foyer and front door. Throwing it open, I limp down the driveway, hoping to catch them before there’s bloodshed.

My heart leaps as I get closer, seeing the three of them. Sy stands in the middle, shoulders tense, body stiff. One look at the girth of his biceps and you know he could snap a man’s neck with one twist. Nick stands beside him, fingers laced through the wrought iron gates above his head. Someone who isn’t studied in Nickology would think he looks downright casual, the curve of his body lean and laconic, but I can sense the agitation rolling off him in waves. It doesn’t help that the gun tucked into his waistband is conspicuously visible.

Remy is already halfway over the gate.

They’re my family—my big brothers–and as much as I know that them showing up here is a terrible, stupid idea, my chest blooms with affectionate warmth at the knowledge they came.

Loyalty.

I only hope they understand that what I’m doing isn’t a betrayal.

“Verity!” Remy shouts when he spots me. His body jerks wildly when Pace opens a security box and presses his thumb against the screen, looking annoyed.

“Must be something about West End that makes you people unable to read a map,” he snipes.

The gate slides open and Remy jumps off before he gets crushed. As soon as it’s open enough to squeeze through, all three march inside without an invitation.

“Verity, what the hell is this?” Sy holds out a phone, showing me the screen. It’s a post on social media, announcing the new Royalty. I knew telling them about this would be hard, but now that it’s here, I feel sick with guilt.

I wring my hands, grimacing. “Uh, well, you see…”

Nick pushes past him, chin raised as he stares the Princes down. “If this is revenge for what happened with Felix—”

“This was a legitimate process,” Lex says, looking just as composed here as he did at the dinner table. “The Princess received an invitation and accepted. But you’re right.” The smile he gives them is chilling in its sharpness. “We’re not even when it comes to Felix.Yet.”

“This is bullshit,” Remy says, pacing back and forth, his frame long and lithe. “Verity would never agree to anything with you assholes, which means this is a kidnapping.”

Wicker laughs, looking deceptively boyish as he struts to my side. “We invite our women to come to our ball. Unlike the rest of you animals, there’s no kidnapping, trafficking, or bartering in our process. They have the free will to accept or not.” He tosses an arm over my shoulders, jarring me. “Miss Sinclaire accepted our invitation.” I feel his cold gaze when he looks at me, lifting his free hand to sweep an obscene caress down my breast. “Didn’t you, Princess?”

The weight of his arm on my shoulders brings it all back to me. The force of his grip as he pushed me down on that phallus. The way he drove me into the table. The stinging heat of his semen as it filled me. A wave of nausea rolls over me, and I’m unable to answer.