Princes of Legacy (Royals of Forsyth University, #9)

by Angel Lawson

“You’ve hurt him,” I guess. Lex meets my stare. “Yes.” “Badly?” Pace raises his chin, a glint of defiance in his dark eyes. “Sometimes.”

That unhinged response is supreme

“There,” he says smugly, dipping down to brush his lips against my cheek. “My woman. My baby. My name.”

“Now that one,” Lav says, tossing a shirt in the medium pile, “the way he looks at you?” “What about it?” “I’ve seen that before too.” She turns to watch Wicker approach Lex in the middle of the room. “He’s not ready yet, but when he finally is…” She trails off, but honestly, I’m dying to know. “What? What happens?” “It’s going to feel like falling off a cliff.”

“Because you saved him,” the Duchess concludes, drawing my gaze to hers. Sy nods toward the bedroom, adding, “Because she’s our family, and you’re her family.” He dips his chin in a grim nod. “Family is the only thing we trust.”

Lex mutters, “I’ve seen some torture that would be preferable.” Pausing, he adds, “I’ve done some torture that would be preferable.”

“What do you think? Tigers, giraffes, or elephants?” Wicker blinks. “Are we opening a slightly illegal petting zoo?” Frowning, I flip to some other pages. “Well, there’s also trains, bunnies, and baby ducks.” “For the tigers to eat?” “For the theme,” I whine, flashing him a page with a forest theme. “Gun to your head, which would you choose?” “Can you just pull the trigger?”

Wick points out, “I wanted to kill him and get it over with. You’re the one being all strategic and drag-ass about it.”

But Verity doesn’t even know what the ascension is. And she hates getting blood on her dresses.

His green eyes are wide, following the path of his hand up the wall. “Imagine everything she’s seen.” “A hundred years of East End jizz,” Wicker mutters with

Remy follows his gaze, pushing his wild, platinum hair out of his eyes. “That’s so the baby always knows how to get home, even when it’s dark.”

“Severed heads are a messy business. Best stick with him taking care of your pussy.”

“For those of us on the wicked path, true self is about loyalty. Do you trust your lover enough to die? To give yourself over a hundred percent, body, mind, and soul? We’re not just bound in this life, but also in the next. Will may be gone, but he’s still tethered to me, waiting until I cross the veil.”

Lex doesn’t even flinch. “Except for the name,” he adds, mouth strained. “You still need to decide on that, because every week from now until delivery is a melon, and if we start calling this kid ‘pumpkin’, I’ll throw myself off a cliff.”

“They’re just so unpredictable,” he argues. After a blink, he adds, “Birds. Not Wicker, although that dude can definitely sneak up on a guy.” He shakes his head. “It’s their beady eyes, always looking like they’re watching you, and the talons and beaks are strong enough to crack the shells off seeds and nuts.” His eyes are wide and he quickly covers his crotch with his hands. “I don’t want her to do that, or anything else, to me.”

Voicing my opinion on birds