Warmth.
It crashes into me like a wave against a seawall, sudden and solid and saving me from drowning.
Ridge's calloused hand finds the small of my back, his palm rough even through the velvet, grounding me like an anchorthrown into deep water. He's directly behind me, his jaw tight beneath the beginnings of a beard he's let grow these past terrible weeks. Tension radiates off him, the barely restrained violence of a man who wants to break things but settles for standing guard instead.
“Easy, Princess,” he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. His voice is gravel and grit. “Breathe. I've got you.”
To my left, Colter shifts. His mask reflects the cathedral's stained glass in fractured colors—ruby and sapphire and gold—hiding his face but not his worry. I don't need to see his expression to feel it, heavy as humid air before a storm. His hand brushes mine, just for a second, a question and an answer all at once.
Behind me, Luka's presence is quieter but no less real. I can practically hear his mind working, cataloging every exit, every threat, every variable in the room. He's probably counted the number of tiles in the ceiling, memorized the faces of every mourner, calculated the statistical likelihood of an attack. His anxiety is a comfort, strangely. It means someone is paying attention to the dangers I'm too broken to see.
And then—Kylian.
He presses against my side, all sharp angles and unhinged energy, a live wire in human form. Where the others are steady, he's chaos, but it's a chaos that somehow steadies me when the world tilts.
“Anyone you want me to stab?” he whispers, lips brushing my ear. “I'm bored. Say the word. The ambassador with the fake tears looks like he'd bleed pretty.”
A hysterical laugh bubbles in my throat, inappropriate and ugly. I swallow it down, but he feels my shoulders shake and presses closer, his hand finding mine and squeezing until our bones creak.
My mates. My alphas. The only reason I'm still standing.
And then I’m being led away, back to the very front pew, where I’m nestled between the loves of my life as I try not to fall apart at the seams.
The priest drones on about eternal rest and heavenly kingdoms, but I'm counting heartbeats. Ridge's, steady and slow. Kylian's, rabbit-fast and eager. Mine, stuttering and uncertain.
When the final prayer ends, when the soldiers come to carry the coffins away, I don't cry. I think I've forgotten how. Or maybe the tears have frozen, suspended somewhere between my ribs where I can't reach them.
The crowd stirs, velvet whispers and the creak of old wood, and then?—
Chaos.
The press swarms like hornets from a kicked nest, microphones thrust forward like weapons, questions battering me from all sides, sharp and stinging.
Colter growls and attempts to shield me. Ridge quite literally bares his teeth at a particularly persistent asshole. Luka places his hand on the small of my back and herds me toward the back exit.
“Princess Brylee! Princess! How are you feeling?”
“What's next for Hypso? Will Teddie be taking the throne immediately?”
“Is it true that you’re still pursuing peace with Nóthos? Is Prince Stefan actually in residence in the palace? What does that mean? Were they behind the attack on your parents?”
“Where is Prince Theodore? Why isn’t he here?”
“Back the fuck off!” Kylian rumbles, reaching for the dagger he always keeps on his person.
I reach out a hand to stop him.
This…
This ismyfight.
He uses weapons.
I use my words, honing them into blades sharp enough to cut skin.
My face moves without my permission, muscles pulling into something composed, something regal. Mother's training, finally useful for something other than giving me nightmares. I arrange my features into the mask she taught me to wear—the perfect princess, the unbreakable heir, the girl who doesn't bleed in public.
“My brother sends his regrets,” I say, and my voice is steady despite the earthquake inside me, tectonic plates shifting and grinding. “He's currently overseeing the final preparations for the peace accords with Nóthos. A fitting tribute to our parents' vision of a unified future.”
