Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy 1)

Ares appeared aloof as he turned around. He shrugged. “I’d be careful snooping around hallways, little,” he said, frowning. “Some things you hear can’t be unheard.”

Sneering at him, I studied my thigh again. I didn’t know if it was a pen he had or what, but he obviously hadn’t cared he’d stabbed me with it. It wasn’t bleeding a lot, so I just rubbed it away with my borrowed shorts.

Ares sauntered away while I tended to myself, crazy fucker.

“What are you doing?”

Dorian was coming out of that room behind me, Wells and Thatcher behind him.

All three boys stopped.

Wells and Thatcher eyed me, Dorian too. The dark prince frowned. “Well?”

I said nothing, clearly caught outside the door. I’d heard every word behind it too. At least, what I’d walked in upon. Dorian started to say something, but Thatcher placed his big hand on his shoulder.

Thatcher pounded his fist. “We got you, man,” he said, then pulled him into a hug. This surprised me. Boys hugged? I supposed close boys did.

These boys did seem close.

Wells did the same after Thatcher let go.

“Be safe,” Wells added, as if Dorian were about to go to war or something.

Dorian’s tense expression during the exchange hinted it may be something similar. He pulled away from his friend, then pounded Wells’s fist. The two juniors acknowledged me with a chin tip before heading off in the other direction down the hall. They left Dorian and me standing there.

Dorian closed that door they’d all come out of.

“How much of that did you hear?” he asked me, angling closer. He was dressed in his uniform, ready for classes unlike me.

I shrugged. “I was just passing by,” I said. “You’re going somewhere?” I mean, that was all I heard.

The uniform must have been a front.

He obviously wasn’t going to classes today. I’d heard him say the opposite.

Dorian outlined his firm jaw. “Yeah,” he said, his hands shoving into his pockets. His chin jutted in my direction. “You miss your uniform or something?”

He studied my clothing under more than an observant gaze, and seeing all my own shit in my arms, he smiled for some reason. His eyes lifted to the ceiling, then next thing I knew, he was squeezing my shoulder. He directed me right back to the room from which I’d come.

He drew open the curtains once inside, letting the light in, and his next move consisted of pointing toward the fireplace.

A school uniform hung there on a special hook for hanging garments. It wasn’t a male uniform, though. The skirt and tights gave that away.

I headed over to them and blinked when I noticed they weren’t only my size but were mine. Academy uniforms all had our initials sewn into the collar, custom made, and I’d found that laughable when I’d first discovered that little tidbit upon coming here.

Dorian also had a pair of polished pumps beneath them, also mine, and the overnight bag toward the right, really made me scratch my head.

Upon further observance, I noticed it was filled with my toiletries. Like my actual stuff from home and my makeup. I frowned. “What the fuck? Did you rob my house?”

And how in the fuck had he gotten into it?

The dark prince chuckled, lounging his big body back against the fireplace. Could this guy be more of a god? He looked as if he could break the bricks out of it one by one. He grinned. “I had Wells and Thatcher go over to your house this morning and get it,” he admitted, shocking me. He lifted a hand. “And before you ask, your brother let them in. They didn’t break inside. From what I hear, your brother even got your stuff together for you.”

My stomach soured. “Bru knows I stayed over here?” I recalled the texts, but they’d been a lie, not my actual location.

Dorian opened his hands. “I’m sure he guessed,” Dorian stated, pushing off the fireplace. He smirked. “You ashamed of me, little fighter? Our night together?”

I was shocked by him if anything. I shook my head. “Why did you do this? Get my stuff?”