Page 82 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

“Boat,” I correct. “Pretty sure you missed the boat.”

“That ship sailed,” she mutters. “I would’ve liked to go. To prom, I mean.”

“And that’s why you’re out here?”

She sits up. “My grandparents have been talking about sending me back here, and all I can picture is that argument Grandma had with my parents after the car accident that almost killed us. They screamed so much. And then I thought about Dad’s reaction to me stealing his car.”

“Did you steal something else?” I ask before I can stop myself. “Margo Wolfe, maybe?”

She rolls her eyes and pulls her light hair back off her neck. “And where would I put her?”

I glance around. “If you know something…”

“Ooh, will you threaten me?” Lux reaches out and tugs on the leg of my pants. “Kick me and get it over with.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

She gets under my skin. Could I have invited her to prom? Absolutely not. She would’ve been a wrecking ball unleashed on Emery-Rose. I blink and see blood running down the side of her face, then blink again and its gone. To think of her in a dress, with a mask…

Something dark shifts in my chest.

“You wouldn’t have liked the outcome,” I say. “Any guy who looked at you would be dead.”

She rolls up onto her knees, and I’m reminded of the way I cornered her at the game the year prior. Shoved her face into my groin and dared her to do something. And she would’ve—that’s the part that drives me crazy.

“Any guy who looks at me would be dead?” She laughs and stands, poking my chest. She’s tiny, coming up to my chin, but fierce. Like she’d take on anyone without flinching. Even me.

“I believe that’s what I said.” I grab her hand to stop her from touching me again.

She curls her fingers into a fist and leans in. “Then how about the assholes at school who call me your slut? Who look at me like I’m just a piece of ass for Theo Alistair?”

I’d heard whispers, but I had ignored them. Her expression turns my ignorance to rage, like a spark against gasoline. I tighten my grip on her fist.

“Who?”

She laughs. “Everyone. And I doubt you can stop them any more than you can stop a storm.” Lucy gives me a hard glare. “You had to know.”

“I didn’t.”

“Liar.” She hooks her foot around my ankle and jerks, yanking her fist from my grip at the same time.

It’s so surprising, I don’t have time to stop it. She shoves my shoulder, completing the move, and my back hits the ground. In an instant, she straddles my hips and leans forward, resting her forearms on my chest.

Every muscle is strung tight, but I don’t buck her off.

I’m curious.

Her long blonde hair falls over her shoulder, and her blue eyes bore into mine. Her face is close to mine, and it opens up for once. I get to see all those thoughts she keeps locked away—fear and curiosity and lust.

She traces my jaw. “Were the girls all over you?”

I narrow my eyes. “When?”

“That masquerade ball. When you were all dressed up. Or whenever…?” She covers the top half of my face, parting her fingers so I can see through. “I’m trying to picture you in a mask, but all I can see is the one you wear every day.”

“Lucy.”

She shakes her head, and her hands drift lower, wrapping around my throat.

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