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I could feel his body trembling as he wrapped as much of himself around me as he could, as if I were still in my little blue car, flying over the cliff, and he could save me from the impact somehow, absorb all of it himself.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Legs,” he murmured, his lips at my ear and his voice rough. “I’m so goddamn sorry.”

He was talking about more than the physical hurts. He, out of all the Princes, knew best what dance meant to me. Knew what it would do to me to have it taken away.

I wrapped my less-bruised arm around his back, clinging awkwardly to the strong planes of his muscles as I let my sadness pour out of me. Other hands gripped me, holding me up, keeping the heavy weight in my stomach from dragging me into the darkest place. For a moment, the singular entity of the Princes surrounded me completely, wrapping me in a soothing blend of their combined scents. Cedar, citrus, oak, and ginger.

Pulling in a deep, shuddering breath, I held it in my lungs for a few seconds, feeling my heart thud hard against my ribs.

It wasn’t over. Not my life, not the possibilities of the future. Nothing was played out to the end yet.

I’m still here, aren’t I?

My heart was still beating.

I was still breathing.

Nothing I’d encountered had broken me for good so far, and this wouldn’t either.

Finn held me for a while longer, and I felt his body relax a tiny bit as mine did too. When he released me, all the Princes dragged the nearby chairs into a tight grouping around the bed. Mason sat on my right side, closest to my head, and he reached out to grasp my hand in both of his.

“Do you remember what you told us yesterday, Princess?” he asked. His voice was strained, and I could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

I shook my head. Everything since the accident was still fuzzy. I remembered seeing their faces hovering above me, remembered the sound of his voice and Cole’s whispering back and forth late at night. But the specifics were a blur.

“You said you tried to stop. And you couldn’t.” His tone was hard, and angry agitation seemed to churn under his skin.

My voice was raspy when I spoke, but my words didn’t slur like they had before.

“Yeah. I tried to press the brake. It felt… soft. And t

hen, nothing. Like there was nothing connected to it. I pressed on it as hard as I could—”

I broke off, my gaze shifting back down to my shattered leg. It’d been that press that had transferred the shock of the impact from the car to my leg. In trying to save myself from spinning out, I had basically guaranteed the outcome that’d come to pass.

Mason’s grip on my hand didn’t tighten, but I could feel his fingers go rigid. Then he said, “Tal, that shouldn’t have happened. It was a brand new fucking car. It shouldn’t—wouldn’t—have happened if someone didn’t plan for it. Someone set this up. I’m fucking sure of it.”

My gaze whipped up to meet his, my stiff neck protesting the quick movement with a flare of pain. “What?”

But my shock began to fade almost before I finished speaking the word.

It made sense.

It was practically the only thing that made sense.

Someone had tried to kill me.

Chapter 4

“Who?” I whispered.

Maybe that was a dumb question too, but my brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity yet. My gaze shifted around the tight circle of faces, taking in each of the Princes. They all looked grim, and none of them had spoken up to contradict Mason’s assertion that someone had deliberately sabotaged my car.

Elijah shook his head, his hazel eyes glittering with anger. “We don’t know for sure. Your car was totaled, so there probably isn’t any way to even prove there was tampering. But we have an idea.”

An idea.

I let that sink in for a second, and then I let out a choked, almost hysterical laugh.

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