This was what my uncle meant when he said dignity in the face of indignity. Would I really go home with Khalid?

Would I let myself go home with him?

Khalid was about to lay down his card when a gold coin landed on the table.

Everything stopped.

Unlike the other coins, this one had markings. It was beautiful, almost looking like lace. I don’t know what the markings meant, but the coin made Gray freeze.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gray looked up at whoever threw the coin. “Why would you use that on her?”

“You have to honor it.”

My heart stopped. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. I knew by the low, smooth timbre of the voice. I hadn’t heard it in years, but I could never forget the boy who took my virginity.

West du Lac.

Instead of letting me go, Gray tightened the cage, palm spreading to fan across my entire abdomen, pulling me tighter against his chest. Briefly, stupidly, I wondered if he could feel the butterflies bounce in my stomach.

West arched a brow. “Are you challenging? Over a servant?”

The room went quiet.

West du Lac was tall—taller than Gray even—with broad shoulders and a square jaw. With fluffy brown hair and warm brown eyes, he was like everyone else here dressed in casually expensive clothes, however there was one key difference: his eyes were kind.

I’d fallen for them once.

“Is that any stranger than you using a fucking coin on one?” Gray asked.

West shrugged. “In the mood for something Gray Crowne wants.”

Grayson laughed, but he was tenser than steel beneath me.

Lottie’s brown eyes sparkled in the dark. I didn’t know what any of this meant, why they had coins, and why everyone was watching so tensely; and the last person I wanted to go with was West du Lac, but I knew the look in Lottie’s eyes.

I turned to my shoulder so I could whisper. “Lottie is watching. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Gray cursed so low only I heard—and then shoved me off so I fell to my hands and knees.

I knew then that Gray could feel my butterflies, because he seemed determined to rip their wings off anytime they fluttered.

I stared at my shadow in the shiny floor. I could feel everyone looking at me, their laughs sinking into my back, when West knelt in front of me and gave me his hand.

Everything in me wanted to shove his hand away and spit in his face.

Lottie had moved to sit next to Gray, and his hand was over the chair, his other pushing a loose braid behind her ear.

I blinked at my shadow in the floor, lids suddenly on fire. Why did my chest ache?

“Angel?” West extended his hand farther.

“Don’t call me that,” I muttered.