Princes of Ash (Royals of Forsyth University, #8)

by Angel Lawson

This time, I want it to be different. A pleasure we’ve both chosen.

“Guys, this is not what I meant about keeping the Princess hydrated.”

🤣🤣🤣

I’m more surprised than I should be when his hand dips down to cup my belly, voice quiet and warm in my ear. “He okay?” I nod.

wide as he watches his cock throb between my lips. The second he shudders the last of his release, he’s pulling me up to straddle his hips, capturing my mouth in a slick, salty kiss. Finally, he takes my breasts in both palms, thumbs sliding over my sensitive nipples. I rock into him, wanting friction, wondering what’s taking Pace so long. I want him inside. Need him. “Pace,” I gasp into Wicker’s mouth. “I don’t know,” Pace says, and when I tear myself away from Wicker to look at him over my shoulder, he’s thrusting his hand in his hair, looking conflicted. “Maybe we should just go to bed. Lex can get you off. Right, Lex?” My stomach sinks. “Why?” “Jesus, you don’t need to look so worried,” Lex says, close enough that I can see the tent in his boxers, too. “It was a charley horse. I used to get them during training. It’s not a big deal.” Pace drags a palm down his face. “I know, it’s just…” “You’re worried about her,” Lex says. It’s not a question, and when Pace’s eyes drop down to my belly, I think we all come to a realization. “Oh,”

explains, “I couldn’t really see him before. He was there, but… not really.

Reaching over, I finger a long lock of Lex’s hair, tucking it gently behind an ear. He turns to look at me, half startled, half questioning. As soon as those amber eyes lock with mine, I allow myself to relax.

For the first time in months, I feel like I’m home.

This may be the only time I’ve really felt like I’ve had something to come back to.

I’ve had brothers for fourteen years, and the way I feel about them is absolute—never a question. But this tightly wound thing in my chest is breathtakingly intense in a way I’m not used to. I’d kill for my brothers. But I’d die for her and our son.

“There’s a video here called Mayfield,” she whispers, the words sounding trapped in her throat. “But it’s dated eleven years ago.”

FUCK HIM THE FUCK UP. TAKE HIM TO THE BASEMENT TORTURE HIS PEDOPHILE ASS TEAR HIM TF APART

“You were dead the second you touched her.”

“Father,” Pace says, “this was not an act of defiance. This was me doing what I had to do to protect—” The desperation in his voice turns my stomach,

“You’ll have to kill me before I let you lay a hand on her or our son.”

THEY NEED TO KILL THIS FUCKER OH MY GOD

Turning my head, I see a flash of auburn hair, and then a hand wrapped around the handle of the whip, battling his father for control. His amber eyes are murderous pits of black, lips pulled back in an animalistic snarl, and when he raises his fist at Ashby, some part of me recognizes it as protection. The next crack isn’t the whip at all. It’s Lex’s knuckles, connecting with Ashby’s jaw.

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!

“Truth be told, I hadn’t realized you’d made her one of you so quickly. But look at her, already taking your punishments for you. All this little outburst of yours has accomplished is confirming my suspicions.” He gives me a blood-stained grin. “She’s the new precious thing, isn’t she?”

I’d try to find Pace’s opinion on the matter, except he’s too busy pushing these little, agonized whispers into Verity’s temple, his hands splayed over her stomach between them.

Time and time again, Verity Sinclaire has proved she’s the most loyal of us all.

YEAH SHE IS

To my surprise, Wicker’s the one to narrow his eyes. “There’s no fucking way we’re leaving here without her.”

In nine days, we’ll take Verity away from East End. Away from West End Away from Forsyth.

This is gonna end horribly & I HOPE VERITY KILLS THAT MF & becomes KING

When Thad shoves the key into the lock, I imagine how easy it’d be to kill him. To carry her out of here. To go somewhere until my brothers meet us.

It should be enough to calm the raging storm in my chest, but it isn’t. Not until her fingers begin fluttering through my hair.

I knew he was handling that shit too smoothly.

“No!” I insist, taking her hand in mine. I press it to my chest, allowing her to feel the steadiness of the heart beating beneath it. “No, I promise.

This child, our family, it’s more important than anything. I know that.” I knew it the second I stepped between Verity and my father. There’s no high in this world that’s worth being unable to protect them. Maybe there was a time when this woman and the life growing inside of her were yet another duty piled on top of a mountain, but it’s different now. They’re not an obligation. They’re a purpose.

“Verity,” I whisper, mouth forming a tired grin. “Family isn’t DNA. There’s no circumstance in this world that would make Wicker and Pace anything less than my brothers, and there’s no universe where I’d see this baby as anything less than mine.” I stroke her cheek, the awe so big in my chest that it’s almost more than I can contain. “We created him, didn’t we?” Her eyes glisten. “We did.” “All of us.” She nods, and for a moment, I think two people will never be as connected as we are now, contemplating the absolute fucking enormity of what we’ve made.

then, “Oh, wait. You can have this.” I reach into the supplies and grab the stethoscope. Carefully lifting her hair, I loop it around her neck. “It might take some time to find it with that.” She glances around the cell, her grin bleak. “I have time.” Another pang shoots through my chest, and I shake out the blanket. “This is yours,” she notes as I tuck it around her. “It’s clean.” The truth is, something in my chest unwinds at the sight of her wrapped up in it.

“That’s why you stepped in. To save Effie.” “Pace killed Charlie to protect me,” she says, the expression on her face somber yet knowing. “And she’s more than just a bird to him, isn’t she? She’s… she’s his heart.” Holding my eyes, her head tilts pensively. “It’s like he was afraid of having a soul, so he gave it to her to keep safe. Something untainted that would love him back.” I crouch in front of her, stunned speechless. No one has ever understood that about Pace. In fact, I’m not even sure I fully did. Not until Verity gave it flesh. Springing forward, I press my mouth to hers. Not because of the wild, scratching need in my chest, but because she sees him, and how? How can I not fall for someone who sees my brothers for what they really are? Part of me wants to tell her that she’s right, but only partially. Whatever paltry thing Pace has granted to Effie, it pales in comparison to what he’s imparted to her.

Her eyes blaze into mine. “Trust me.” I owe her that and so much more, so that’s what I do. I stick it in my pocket, and against every instinct in my body, I leave her there on the cot, curled up in the only warmth I can provide her.

Pace inhales sharply, as if he’s about to interject. When he clamps his mouth closed, I ask, “What?” eyeing the rolls dubiously. “Nothing,” he says, pushing the tray towards me. At my skeptical look, he sighs. “I’ve been down here a lot, so I know the ropes. Soup will get cold, but the egg can stay shelled for a couple of hours, and the bread can get you through the night, in case—” He stops, frowning at the spread of food. “Well, I doubt he’d keep dinner from you, right? You’re pregnant. You need to eat.

FUCKING BREAKING MY DAMN HEART ALL THE TIME KILL MF ASHBY

I touch the curve of his cheek—the mottling bruise from his scuffle with Thad—and swallow past the lump in my throat as I lean over to brush a kiss there. I hear his breath stop, feeling the way he turns into the touch. His hand cradles my jaw as he holds me there, close and warm, for a long second. When I lean back, he jerks forward, almost like he wants to stop me.

I pause, feeling my hair tug in different directions. “Are you… braiding my hair?” “It’ll get all knotted up after five days on this bed, and I can’t leave the brush.” Desolation settles heavily in the silence that follows, but Pace is quick to shatter it. “You know, Lex never lets me? Drives me fucking nuts.”

GURL YES YOU HAVE YOU JUST LISTED IT STOP DENYINGGG

But tucked in with every meal, there were little treats—snack cakes, small pieces of chocolate, or a cookie from the bakery just off campus. Even though Wicker never came to see me—not once—I know he was behind that tiny rush of comfort.

He spins, and I think he’s going to walk away, but after two prowling strides, he ricochets back. There’s resolve set in his angular jaw. “I’ve spent the last five days hanging on by a very thin thread, wavering between killing my father for locking you up, and going down there and stealing you myself. But…” His eyes bear down on me, and I shiver at the mixture of agony and tenderness there. “If I’d seen you down there, with no way to get you out, I would have lost my shit and done something very, very stupid.”

You were supposed to cry. To run. To make it easy for me to break you. But you didn’t break. You just kept fucking going. And then…” My stomach clenches. “Then what?” His eyes dart to my belly, then back up, making his hair flop in his eyes. “You rescued me.” His jaw tics. “Twice.” “I did what any Princess would do,” I say carefully. “No. No one has ever done something like that for me before.” He looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Not when I was ten, or fifteen, or twenty.” He inhales, eyes searching. “So why, Verity? Why do you do it, knowing damn well I can’t rescue you back?” I lift my hand and cup his cheek, knowing the answer. “Because, Whitaker Kayes, despite how hard your father tried, this isn’t a transaction for me. I showed up because I see what you don’t.” With a sad smile, I stroke his cheek. “That you’re worth saving.”

But her words, just like the warmth of her touch, go off like a bomb in my chest, taking down the walls so carefully built around my heart. It’s not so much what she says, but what the words mean. Even through all the bullshit, Verity Sinclaire sees me.

Give me what I need to rebuild those walls. Stop touching me and soothing this buzzing need beneath my skin.

I’ve never wanted anything—or anyone—more. I’ve wanted her since the day I saw her after winning my Fury, so timid and gorgeous in that back hallway.

Seeing her on her knees, taking my father’s abuse in Pace’s place, made it clear that she didn’t just save me. She saved him—or, as I found out later, his goddamn bird, but it’s one and the same. And how many times has she been the reason Lex wasn’t out on the streets, looking for another hit of Scratch? It doesn’t matter that he relapsed. What matters is this: No one’s rescued me before, and they sure as hell have never rescued my brothers. Not until her.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes brim with tears, one sliding down her cheek. I lunge up to kiss it away. “Don’t be.” Dragging a hand down her side, I graze my thumb over the side of her growing belly. “With you,” I continue, struggling to find the words, “it’s different. It should be different. I want to be completely at your mercy.” I kiss her jaw, dropping my hand to the place where our bodies meet. “You want that, right?” I press my fingers into the slick heat between her legs. “You won’t take more than I can give. I know you won’t.” She shudders. “Never.”

“I want to give you all of me,” my lips brush the shell of her ear, “and I want all of you in return.” Her chest hitches with a gasp, pussy sliding over my cock. “Oh, god.” “For the first time in my goddamn life, I don’t just want to get off, Red.” I trail my kiss to her warm cheek, watching her green eyes flutter. “I want you to be mine.”

Fuck me for having this, but squandering it. Fuck me for all those times I buried my cock into this perfect hole and let it be anything less than blissful. Fuck me for taking her body, but never appreciating the flush of her cheeks, or the fan of her lashes, or the way her jaw goes slack when she takes me in.

Pace would never admit it, but I found him down here a couple of times while she was locked away, standing in the middle of it all with a drawn, broody expression.

“She asked about you,” I say, pinning him with a glare. “Don’t make me lie to her again.” His face falls,

Protective wick 🥹🥹🥹🥰

“It’s Stella,” she says, clutching his wrists. “She’s gone.”

God damnit I knew that was gonna happen. FUCK.

“Anywhere else she might have gone?” Pace asks, glancing at her. “Could help us narrow it down.” Her forehead creases pensively. “Maybe the bakery?” She flicks her eyes at Lex. “I, uh, wanted a cake designed for the graduation afterparty.” Lex looks up, stunned. “For me?” “Yeah, well,” she rolls her eyes, “your father doesn’t have the best track record.”

but Ballsy just shrugs. “I’m good,” he says, adjusting his own tie, which somehow makes him look twelve instead of nineteen.

He is so cute

“You keep her safe.” His Adam’s apple bobs under a thick swallow. “Two of my girls have already gone missing. I sure as hell can’t take a third.”

I love Eugene 😭

To escape. To run to the safety of my Princes. Because here, at the end of it all, that’s what they are to me. Protection. Salvation. Home.

“You had one fucking job!” Ballsack stands a foot away, vibrating with rage. “I told you to keep her safe! You—specifically.”