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My body isn’t just made for this baby. It’s made for them.
“That I love you.”
SCREAMING I AM SCREAMING
To my beautiful Queen. May she reign.
I see my future. “I love you, too,” I tell him, knowing that our journey to that future will be as thorny as the rose bushes surrounding this palace. But knowing it’ll be worth it.
Stoppp I’m cryinggg
I look at him and see so much more than a father, brother, or lover. I see a potential King.
If he wanted to stay in West End under his own King’s protection, we wouldn’t have held it against him. When I asked, he just laughed, saying Verity and our little cantaloupe need a chauffeur.
Now that we know Remy and Wicker are biologically brothers, those links are even more unavoidable. If we’re going to make an ally, the Dukes are the most obvious and useful.
“You don’t like her.” Wicker glances at me, then back to Remy. “It’s just a house.” “Just a house?” Remy gapes at him, an odd flash of anger building in his eyes. “She’s sheltered you, hasn’t she? Showed you her secret places? She’s let you in, kept you safe, and made you a part of her soul.”
“Here, you see? You put your initials—your real initials—into the heart of her. WCK.” Wicker squints his eyes. “What, that little carving? I put those there in fifth grade.” “Exactly,” Remy says, nodding. “You showed her who you were. Called dibs. Don’t be a fickle little bitch.”
GASPING FOR AIR… Too much laughing
I’m starting to understand that Remy doesn’t just see things that we don’t. He sees everything all at once.
“And she says he seems calmest when he hears music.” Remy’s expression turns curious. “What kind of music?” “Classical stuff,” he answers, sliding his gaze to Wicker. “Cello.” Remy follows his gaze to Wicker. “Oh,” he says, brow knitting together. “He’s yours.” “Why does everyone keep saying that?” Wick bursts with a flare of annoyance. “He might come out brown like Pace—you fuckers don’t know.” Remy just snorts. “It’s like the molding. I know dibs when I see them.”
“Biologically, you’ll be his uncle.” Remy blinks furiously, scanning the walls like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Oh, fuck,” he says. “That’s… that’s heavy. That’s a lot of responsibility.” Wicker looks like he’s about to lose it. “For you?! It’s not like you’ll be paying child support here.”
Rent and Wick together are my favorites
“And I’ll do anything for Ver. She deserves the best.” If I’ve learned one thing that ties the Dukes and Princes together, it’s that one simple fact. Verity deserves the best.
“Will August ever end? Who thought it was a good idea to be pregnant in the summer?” Verity stands in front of the refrigerator,
MOOD VIBES EVERYTHING
“It’s too tight.” “I think it hugs your curves perfectly.” “It’s tight,” she argues. “It’s flattering.” “I’m fat.” “You’re literally the most gorgeous I’ve ever seen you.”
THIS IS PREGNANCY
“And you’ve done the work to repair it.” The crown of her belly rubs against my lower belly, and fuck, I like it. “Tommy said he and Heather are back together.” A small grin tugs at her mouth, giving away her pride at her leadership, but all she says is, “Aw. I hope they’re making each other miserable.”
“But what if the whole thing goes sideways?” “It won’t,” I promise her. “You can’t know that.” “I know your mother will be there, and I’d pay good money to see what happens if someone decides to fuck with her daughter and grandson,”
I take in Sy’s ratty T-shirt and old jeans. “What are you doing here?” Sy sidles up to him, arms crossed. “Every time my Duke comes into this fucking place, he comes out with another family member. I’m here to make sure you’re not about to ambush him with a long-lost sister or some shit.”
Ugh I miss Sy
like how they look like they’re hanging by a thread.” 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.”
And I’m crying
“You haven’t noticed how close those girls are?” Every guy in the room stares blankly, confirming that none of us had noticed, and I think about how I had to push her out the door to go to the shower today. “None of you have sisters,” Mercer continues, “but I do. There’s a vibe. Our women have a connection.” Wick nods, face pensive. “I can see it. You know how women like to travel in packs. Ours don’t have that option. Not even with their court or,”
“It says that if we want these women in our lives for the long haul, then they’re going to need some kind of support outside of us. Someone who knows what it's like to carry the burden of being a Queen.”
the idea of Verity being a Queen of Forsyth… It feels destined.
No one would hurt a woman who’s eight months pregnant. Probably. Right?
This is Forsyth we are talking about…
My attention falls on Heather, who showed up with two fake things: a smile and a tan.
And that’s why the women of Forsyth have never banded together. Someone felt the need to bring a switchblade to a baby shower, for Pete’s sake.
Mistrust runs as deep as the Baron’s crypt.
there’s something about a man on his knees, groveling like his life depends on it, that just can’t be matched.”
Clock it
“You mean like flowers and jewelry?” Lakshmi asks. “No,” Story interjects, twirling a lock of her dark hair around a finger. “Like when he comes to your door and carves your initial into his chest.” Lavinia blurts, “Or when he brings you the head of your enemy.” At everyone’s shocked stares, she shrinks into herself, quickly adding, “Or, you know, when he takes care of your kitten or helps you fix a clock.”
“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.”
“You foster life and light. But we’re servants of death, and this boy in your belly? He’ll be a part of it, one way or another.” I watch her hand touch me, heart in my throat. “I’ll never let that happen.” “Aren’t you willing to die for your Princes?” Her eyes dart down to my stomach. “Your son?” “I’m willing to do something a lot more dangerous than dying for them.” Reaching out, I brush her hair over a delicate shoulder, heart clenching at the misery in her eyes. “I’m willing to live for them.”
“Danner’s pantry looks like it hasn’t been cleaned out since before your father became King. I know you guys love your old shit, but I don’t think expired salad dressing qualifies as an antique.”
She cuts me a look, like she’s unsure if I’m being intentionally dumb or naturally dumb. I give her an expression of pure innocence, but honestly, I have no fucking clue.
And we have to be… what’s the word? Responsible? Ew.
Oh wicker
maybe that’s just the circumstances, an old man who’s finally about to have his reckoning.
Secrets aren’t the kind of power I want.
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.”
Oh, my poor wicker
“I love you too,” she says, repeating what I didn’t exactly say, but she understood anyway. “And so will he.”
I’ve tortured the truth out of men before. Their deepest, darkest secrets. But Verity’s confession isn’t something forced. It’s what I’d hoped for, it’s something real, tangible.
Part of me wants to yell and scream, to tell them to get on their knees and let me ruin them the way they ruined me, but I’m made for something bigger than a moment of revenge. I’m made to be the mother of a king.
“I thought he was chaining me to him, and I resented you—everything about you. But I’m starting to realize that’s what he wanted. He never wanted us to think of you as a gift.” He rests his hand on top of mine and gives it a squeeze. “But you were, Red. You were a gift. And that’s what this is. Remember that.”
These are terrible men, and in Forsyth, there’s only two things to do with terrible men. Kill them or recruit them.
“He wasted our women. Our creators. Our mothers and sisters. He used their flesh and discarded them when he was finished.”
“If that’s not a kingdom you’re willing to serve, then de-crown me now. I’ll take my Princes and child with me when I leave, because I’ll—” I swallow, “—we’ll want nothing to do with it.”
“To create,” he says, voice like steel, “is to reign.”
“To create is to reign,” he says, and when I place my hand over his, holding it close, a tear slips down my cheek. “I’m sorry we haven’t found her, Ror.” Slowly, he shakes his head. “It wouldn’t make a difference, Princess. I know a kind heart when I see it. That’s all we need from you.”
And now I’m crying
“You don’t have to,” she says, giving the side of her belly a mindless rub. “But if you want it, I’ll make sure it’s yours. Your dad, Wicker—he didn’t get that. I think it’s important. But not everyone wants to be King. It might be an awful lot of work.” I realize she’s talking to him. Justice.
She’s the one who broke our chains.
but saying and believing are two different things. The way he looks at her—worships her—I have no doubt he meant every word.
“What are you three doing to me?” The question is delivered on the cusp of a breathless chuckle, and it’s Pace who answers. “Worshiping you.”
