Ruthless Crown (Ruthless Royals, #1)

by Amanda Richardson

Hunter Ravenwood, Ash Greythorn, Ledger Huxley, and Samson Hall. The four Kings,” she adds.

“You’re all the same, aren’t you?” My voice is quieter than I expected, edged with emotion. “Men. Men who hurt women.” Like last night, his expression falls for a second. Good. I keep pushing. “You rape us,” I growl, and his eyebrows fly up. “Defiling us, teasing us, invading our space, ensuring even our home doesn’t feel safe,”

People are still terrified of the Kings, but I’m about to pull a checkmate. Hunter, Ash, Ledger, and Samson are about to witness how this Queen attacks—slow, premeditated, and lethal.

I bend down and tie my sneakers, looking up just as Briar comes onto the track. I stifle a laugh as she glowers at everyone, her expression sour and displeased. My dark, little rain cloud.

These guys are my best friends. My soulmates. There is no jealousy. As her stepbrother, I don’t care who she chooses to be with, if they treat her right. I’m slowly starting to learn that her presence is shaking up everything I once knew, everything I once thought. I find myself thinking about my friends in ways I never did before, sharing her, knowing they’re happy, knowing they like her just as much as I do. Seeing her through their eyes is exhilarating, and something savage burns through me when I think about watching her… with them. We used to be the Kings of Ravenwood. I guess I never realized until Briar Monroe showed up that we needed a Queen.

“Tonight changed everything,” he murmurs. “You’re ours now. You realize that, right?” I laugh. “You can’t stake ownership over me.” “I don’t mean we own you like a slave,” he muses. “But at least for me, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I don’t think I can go back. And I think I can speak for all of my friends.”

As long as you’re mine when you’re with me,” I finish, kissing the pale, delicate skin behind her ear.

She’s my kryptonite, and I knew the instant we met that staying away from her was never going to be an option.

“It’s like you’re a zipper,” he says slowly, running a finger down the middle of my chest, mimicking the movement. “You go your whole life zipped up, and then someone comes along and starts to tug. Inevitably, you’ll be unzipped—and you won’t be prepared for what spills out. That’s how I feel when I’m around you.” I quirk my lips up slightly. “Yeah, I can definitely tell you’re a writer.”

“So how will this work?” I ask, curiosity eating at me. He must understand what I’m asking—how I’m going to come to terms with the fact that I’m essentially dating all of them at once—because he smiles and shrugs. “We each get our share of you,” he muses. “We protect you. Show you that sex can feel good again. Date you, fuck you, worship you…”