Princes of Chaos (Royals of Forsyth University, #7)

by Angel Lawson

My blood might be Royal, but aside from my brothers and Father himself, no one knows. Even if they did, being the descendant of the Barons’ highest Royal lineage would just make me even less accepted in East End.

That makes him related to Remy

“To create,” he says, “is to reign.”

My Princes.

“Not for you.” His smugness plummets into a scowl. “Sounds fake, but okay.”

The man sitting with him is Timothy Maddox. Maddox is known for crossing boundaries, going in and out of Forsyth with ease. There

“Wick, we are the rats.”

“You may be a virgin, but your body wants to be treated like a slut.”

You can interrogate Verity about her bouquet of cocks after dinner.”

With someone nice, who really likes you. Someone who holds you afterward. Someone whose eyes you can look into, and when he looks back, you can feel how much he wants and loves you, and it’d be scary, except you can’t feel scared with him, because he’s the epitome of safety, and you can still feel his arms around you even when you’re not together.”

It’s almost disappointing to know how wrong she is. That fire in her eyes? That sort of spark can be fun. Exciting. I make a promise to myself in that moment without even really meaning to. If there’s a way to avoid completely snuffing it out, I’ll take it.

Wisteria seeds. They’re poisonous.

Because I’ve seen her eyes. Strong but fragile. Paranoid and curious. Hostile but desperately lonely. Something inside of Verity Sinclaire is horrifyingly like us, and the longer she looks, the more she’s going to see the truth.

The Dukes and Lords… they don’t know. No one does–just me and my dad. That’s leverage.”

They do though

Wicker is the definition of ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.’

I know it like I knew Wicker and Pace belonged to me, and like I know Verity does too. I just can’t face up to it.