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I pretend I don’t notice how the four men who escorted me into the room fall into position around me. Zaid and Lucas stand at either side while Ciro stays behind me, Hale’s body creating a temporary barrier of safety between myself and Damian.
Calmly, I answer, “By my standards, not the best. You could say I dodged a bullet.” “You’re clever.”
Hale’s lips twitch, and I see a flash of pride in his eyes too. Grace hasn’t been in our world for over six years, but she’s a fucking natural at the politics of power. In a subtle way, she just showed Damian that she’s looking to his son for guidance through all of this, that she’ll defer to Hale’s judgement, not Damian’s. “Yeah. We’re good.”
He cuts off mid-sentence, and I freeze. I can almost imagine Hale holding up a hand, silencing him. My heart beats so loudly that I’m sure they can hear it from inside the room. “Grace,” Hale calls, almost lazily. Fuck.
There’s no way I’m getting drunk around these four men, especially when they’re already a few drinks in, relaxed and handsy. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight as it is.
I’ve thought about the same thing my brother has… Hale has some unspoken claim on her that goes deeper than lust, something that’s going to get him into a shitload of trouble. He’s falling in love with her. I’m fucking sure of it.
“The most terrible thing about trust, Grace,” Damian says, looking at me closely, “is that the more deeply it’s earned, the worse it is when it is broken.”
“I owe Hale my life,” I find myself saying, my voice steady despite my racing pulse. “But how I feel about him… goes beyond that. He’s learned to trust me, and I’ve learned to trust him too. I would never betray him—not because of a debt owed, but because I care about him. Even if he hadn’t saved my life, I would never do anything to hurt your son.”
He takes an easy step into the room, watching me. “Who says you’re not coming with us?” “Well—” “Did I ever say you weren’t invited?” He lifts an eyebrow, stopping a few feet away from the bed. “Or did you just assume we wouldn’t want you there?” I narrow my eyes at him. “That’s exactly what I assumed, actually.”
“Damn,” Lucas mutters, walking over to me. His green eyes burn with possessive awe as Ciro releases me and steps away. “You’re gorgeous, Grace.” Zaid lets out a soft whistle. “Holy shit. I know Lucas calls you princess, but he’s got it wrong. You look like a fucking queen.” “Shut up, Zaid.” I roll my eyes, my blush deepening.
So it’s not him that’s drawing people’s attention and sparking the whispered conversations. It’s me. It’s us. Traditionally, you attend events like these with your family. The people you most want by your side.
His filthy words seem to travel all the way down to my clit, adding to the barrage of sensations from Zaid’s talented mouth.
With a low growl, I turn her head and claim her lips in a kiss before Zaid helps her off my lap. He grabs some tissues from a box on the desk in the corner, and we help her clean up before he pulls her panties from his pocket and goes down on one knee, holding them out like they’re a pair of glass slippers. She laughs as she delicately steps into them, but her laugh turns into a moan as he drags them up her legs.
Hale’s kiss is like a hurricane. It’s fierce and consuming, infused with the same desperate need that filled our embrace a moment ago—a need to connect, to claim. To join us together so deeply that no one can ever rip us apart.
“No.” My brows pull together as I step toward him, directly disobeying his order. Hale raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, so I barrel on. “I already am caught up in this, and not because of my father or Brian. I’m caught up in it because I care about you. I want to be with you. By your side, helping you. All of you. I’m part of this. And you can’t change that now.” There’s a bit of a challenge in my voice as I say the last words, and something almost like a smile tugs at Hale’s lips. “No, I don’t think I can change it, can I?”
They’re beautiful, dangerous, ruthless knights. All four of them have tried to protect me, to save me from the worst parts of the world. But maybe I don’t need saving. “I’ll come,” I say, keeping my voice steady and even.
“Grace—” Zaid protests, trying once again to block my view. But Hale holds out a hand, stopping him. “She said no,” he growls. “It’s her choice.” It is my choice, and I chose to be here. I didn’t choose the censored version, the version that’s easy to bear. I chose the truth.
