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I think of all the nights Danner tucked us into our beds. The way he’d keep the light on in the hall for Pace, or move Lex’sshoes out of the doorway in case he sleepwalked and stumbled. I think of the end of each day and the words I’d speak to his old, hunched, retreating silhouette.

Goodnight, Danner.

I lay there for so long that the overwhelming urgency I felt during her month in West End rises back up. It writhes inside of me, just like the monthly melon I can feel shifting in her belly. Like some incomprehensibly small appendage is reaching for me through her flesh.

It requires a lot of patience and care to slip out of bed without waking any of them. Once I do, I stand at the foot, assessing them all. As if sensing my absence, Lex rolls toward her, burying his nose in her hair. Pace is buried inside of her as she curls around the lingering warmth on my pillow.

It’s them I think about as I grab Pace’s T-shirt off the desk chair. While I’m pulling it on, in the muted darkness of this room I’ve come to see as safe and warm, it hits me that this isn’t all just temporary. The nursery is finished, and it’s been decorated with care—the kind you don’t just throw away.

As I walk down the hall to the security room, I try to think of the palace in this light.Home. With all its nooks and crannies and secrets, it doesn’t feel anything like the abomination I used to think of it as. It feels familiar and full of potential, and as I creep down the stairs to the kitchen, I do what Remy Maddox once accused me of.

I put dibs on it.

Mine, I think as I fill the kettle, andmineas I wait for the water to boil, andmine-all-fucking-mineas I pull the tray out of a cabinet, getting everything in order. I don’t have very far to carry it, and when I reach Danner’s door, I don’t even consider knocking.

When I walk into the room, he’s sitting up in bed, a book fanned open in front of him.

He doesn’t look shocked to see me. “You’re back, my boy,” he says, offering me that same soft smile I’ve known all my life. “I thought you may be the one to return.”

I set the tray down on his bedside table, making sure everything is prepared just-so. He’s done this for me—for my brothers, for Red—so many times that it twists something in my gut to realize how close any of us may have come to the end.

“We had a discussion after we left earlier,” I say, lingering at the foot of his bed. “They’re going to kill you.”

He doesn’t look surprised at this, either. “I suspected as much.”

I avert my gaze, wishing I could be stone like Lex, or angry like Pace. “My brothers are good at killing, as I’m sure you know by now. But the kind of killing they’re good at…” I shrug, accepting it at face value. “It’s not quick. That’s not what we were created to do. So I guess I’m going to give you something you probably never gave those women you buried out back.” I square my shoulders. “A choice.”

Danner glances at the tray. “I suppose you’re not here to set me free, are you?” When all I do is stare at the cup of tea, he nods. “So you’re going to kill me.”

“Don’t think of it as murder,” I say, voice clipped and crisp. “Think of it as mercy.”

It’s difficult not to see this as a show of weakness. The death I’m offering him—a death of his own making—is the easy way out. A Duke like Remy would shoot him in the head. A Baron like my father would cut him until there was no more blood left to give.

But blood means nothing in this family, and I’m not them.

“I used to think I loved you,” I say, looking around the squat room. He’s lived here longer than even Rufus has been alive. “You were the closest thing we ever had to a real father. A grandfather, maybe.”

Danner reaches for the cup. “Then I couldn’t die prouder.”

But I watch him take it, lifting the mug to his lips, and decide, “It was a lie. You were too loyal to him to defend us. To protect us. To save us.” I watch his throat swell with the first gulp, stomach twisting. “I wanted to love you because I wanted to be loved, and I didn’t know what it looked like—felt like.” With a speed I didn’t know he was still capable of, he tips back the cup and swallows the whole thing in three strong swallows. I exhale shakily, looking away, and he coughs.

“Whitaker, look at me.” His voice is thin and wan, and when I meet his gaze, he offers me a gentle grin. “Don’t despair over this. I’m not afraid. I’ve lived a long, loyal life, pledged to the glory of creation. I know you won’t believe me, but my actions with you and your brothers were true. I did my best to protect you from him, to heal your wounds, and to keep you fed and safe.” The cup rattles against the dish as he sets it back onto the tray. “I’m aware that what I did for you wasn’t enough, but I feel peace knowing that any one of Rufus’ children will be an excellent leader for East End.”

If I was expecting to feel triumph, then I’m wrong. Mostly, I just feel sad. Danner’s killed people, but so have we. There’s no mercy in what my brothers and I do. No special teas. No quick ends. There’s no satisfaction in watching this old, frail man grimace as the poison meets his stomach.

But I can’t trust him with my life anymore.

Not with my brothers’.

Not with my Princess’.

Not with my son’s.

When I place my hand on his, holding his foggy-eyed stare, I can only think of two words to part with. They’re the same words I spoke to him every night as a child as he tucked me into bed.

“Goodnight, Danner.”

He gives me a feeble smile, eyelids fluttering closed. “Goodnight, Whitaker.”