My eyes close in mild frustration. “I suppose you’re right.”
Gray and I step out after a few bolstering breaths. We walk straight to the front entrance, which I didn’t actually use when I was here. I have a key, but that doesn’t stop the front door guard from halting his conversation in his comm to balk at me. “Your Majesty? I didn’t know the king was expecting you.”
I boop his nose, because I’m incorrigible, and I don’t care that the staff is subjected to my personality. They’re paid enough to put up with my petulance. “Now, I didn’t think I needed an invitation to my own home. How are things, Wilfred?”
The comm crackles a panicked, “He’s contained in the library, but we’re down two guards. He’s surrounded, but… Where did he go? He was just there!” the comm cuts out, leaving us all in suspense as Wilfred hurriedly finds the volume button, pushing it to silence far too late.
Hope rises in me that perhaps Cassia found Sloan and vanished him after all.
“Trouble?” I ask Wilfred, trying not to sound smug.
He feigns authority. “There’s about to be, if you don’t get your dog off the lawn. Shoo, now. Go on back to your people.”
Though my brother is on two legs, Gray barks at Wilfred, who actually jumps at the sound.
I wave off Wilfred’s tenacity. “He’s with me, and he’ll be treated with respect.”
“Shifters aren’t allowed in the palace, Your Grace,” Wilfred reminds me, as if that’s a rule I’ve merely forgotten instead of smashed to pieces on purpose.
I tap the edge of my sunglasses and slowly lower them, reminding him how fortunate he is that I don’t often expose my temper. “These are not the manners I was hoping you’d show my best friend.”
“Your… what?” Wilfred pales, like he might be sick on the spot at the idea.
My hand on Gray’s shoulder enforces my edict. “Back to your post. Be sure to keep the riff-raff out.”
Gray snarls at Wilfred, who stands at least a head shorter than his massive stature. Though, to be fair, most people do.
Once we pass the entrance and the door shuts behind me, Gray elbows me and gives me a light shove. “Are we getting best friend bracelets to celebrate?”
The corner of my mouth pulls up, matching his. I can’t believe how small my big life was before I landed myself a true brother—one who will march into a place he’s not welcomed and not allowed, all to make sure I make it out alright.
Red and gold greet me, though it’s never felt more hollow. Everything is shiny and ornate, but on the flipside, there’s not a single square inch that looks or feels welcoming.
I don’t belong here anymore—a fact that settles my insides. I know where I belong now, and with whom I’ll be spending my life.
And one of those people is right here beside me.
Wilfred scampers in after us, the pitch of his voice climbing. “Your Majesty, now is not the best time for your homecoming. Let me call you a car and get you set up in your favorite room at the Fitzhugh Hotel.”
I turn, my brow raised. “What seems to be the trouble, Wilfred?”
As if in answer, the comm beeps twice—an alarm code I know well to mean the palace is officially on lockdown.
I groan as Wilfred straightens. “You know the drill. Into the saferoom with you.”
Gray frowns. “What’s going on?”
I roll my eyes. “The palace is on lockdown.” This is not an ideal place to be trapped.
Just then, I startle when a hand grabs onto my wrist. “I’ve got him! He’s alive, but he’s in bad shape. I’m getting him back to the car!” Cassia whispers, frantic and scared. I can’t see her, and thankfully, neither can Wilfred.
Gray straightens, so I know he’s heard Cassia’s good news. Gray heads for the open door. “You’re right. I’m a shifter. I shouldn’t be in here. Let’s go, Paxton.”
Though I make to follow, Wilfred steps in my path. “Lockdown, Your Grace. The shifter can leave, but you are to go to the saferoom.”
Gray turns, frowning that it wasn’t as easy as walking out the front door, which is clearly where Cassia has taken Sloan. “The prince is coming with me. You never saw him.”
Wilfred grips my arm too hard for me to shake off. When I shove the guard, he shouts for backup, and I know things are about to go south real fast.
“Let him go!” Though Gray never laid a hand on any of the inmates who messed with Arlanna, his fist doesn’t hold back this time.
Perhaps Gray understands the importance of our escape. Fighting wouldn’t have done a thing, back at Prigham’s, but out here, he’s making it clear that we are his family.
We are his pack.
His punch wields so much force, I cannot help but stare as Wilfred slams into the wall, blinking as he slides to the floor.
“One punch? Bollocks, that’s impressive.”
Gray grabs my arm as footsteps echo down the hardwood floors of the hallway. “Get to the car!”
Too many men shout to block the exit, but we’re already out and racing toward the teal car, which is problematic for blending in anywhere. Our best bet is to drive as fast as we can back to the commune.
The car door is open, so I know Cassia is already inside. My lungs burn and my side aches as I race toward the unarmored car.
The only thing that distracts me is the sight of Gray’s hair growing before my eyes.
Shite.
“No, Gray! Do not shift! Don’t give them the fight they want! Just get to the car and let’s go!”
Now we’re not just outrunning the four guards on foot behind us, but we’re outracing Rafe, as well. We need to get to safety before Rafe deems this a grand time to make his royal appearance.
The car starts up, and I realize it’s the backdoor that’s open for us. Cassia must be behind the wheel. Invisible.
This should be interesting.
Gray leaps into the backseat, and I make it in beside him just before the car lurches forward. It drives straight toward the guards, who scatter to dodge Cassia’s wild temper.
“Just in time,” she says, and I can hear the grin in her voice. It’s surreal to be driven by someone I can’t see.
I can see blood in the passenger’s seat, but no body. “Did you get Sloan?”
That must be the moment she removes her hand from his, because a bloodied and bruised Sloan manifests in the passenger’s seat.
Cassia turns down the side road and steps hard on the gas, jerking us around without mercy.
“That was so dangerous, kids. You shouldn’t have done that.” Sloan’s breaths are uneven, and I can tell something important is broken. He winces with every shallow breath. “Arly knows the plan. You’re supposed to leave me and assume I’m dead.”
“Screw the stupid plan,” Cassia snarls. “We don’t leave anyone on our team behind. Now clean yourself up, chief. Arly’s going to faint if she sees you like that.”
Sloan manages an exasperated laugh as Cassia gets onto the freeway, finally materializing so we can see her.
Sloan’s face looks like he’s been beaten several days in a row with the business end of a bat. Father never indulged in any sport other than golf, but he appreciates the tools of other sports enough to bastardize them for his own means.