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Chapter 5

Roman is standingin the center of the semi-circle, as instructed. I'm shocked, actually. He's always the one in control, and I've never seen him take direction from anyone.

But the look on his beautiful face says everything. He hates this, and he's barely tolerating it.

Fuck him.

He can see how it feels to be moved around like a pawn, unsure of what's happening. Being told nothing.

I rise from the throne and step off the dias, so I'm on level ground with him. Then I approach, until I'm only a few feet away.

Fuck, this is harder than I imagined it would be. Just seeing his face is like a punch in the gut, and my heart is beating so fast, it feels like a jackrabbit thumping against my ribcage.

"Kneel before your queen," I say, my gaze unflinching.

He hesitates, his eyes narrowing, his jaw tightening. But after a few heartbeats, he falls to his knees in front of me, head bowed, his face covered by the hood of his robe.

I suck in a long breath and try to calm the anxiety that's rioting through me. I have Roman Rush, the all-powerful campus king, on his knees. And seeing him like this sends a buzz of energy rushing through my bloodstream.

This is what power feels like.

"Roman Rush, Sacred Son, and honored member of the Burning Crown. Your membership is being suspended, pending the outcome of your tribunal—"

His head snaps up, and he looks at me, fire in those pale blue eyes. "My tribun—? The fuck, Lux?"

Oh, he's big mad.

Good.

Lucas, Christian, and Jackson push their way into the center of the semi-circle, flanking Roman. United as ever.

"This is bullshit," Lucas says, his jaw tight. "You can't subject him to a tribunal without our approval."

I turn my head to look at Lindsay. She steps forward and hands me the book of bylaws from Roman's room. I flagged a few of the articles with sticky notes because I had a sinking feeling the guys were going to argue the legitimacy of doing this.

Guys are so fucking predictable.

Everyone's eyes are riveted on me, including Roman's. He rises to his feet as I open the book to the third sticky note. Clearing my throat, I read directly from the book. "Article twelve. Ruling Officers. The ruling officers of the Society of the Burning Crown shall be known as the Sacred Sons. The position of a Sacred Son will be inherited and given only to direct male descendants of the five founding families, which are named in Article Two." I pause and skip to the relevant paragraph. "If a Sacred Son should be found accused of one or more offenses against the Society of the Burning Crown outlined in Article Three, he will be subjected to a tribunal. In the event all Sacred Sons are accused, the queen consort shall initiate and appoint a qualified officer in the interim, and a fair trial shall henceforth be conducted."

It goes on about what should be done if all members are found guilty, but I stop there and glance up. The room is so quiet, I can hear my own thundering heartbeat pounding in my ears. I might be exuding confidence, but this shit is still terrifying.

Isn't it John Wayne who said, "Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway?"

Yeah, I'm scared shitless, but I'm not letting these fucking assholes call the shots anymore. Their campaign of rich-boy fuckery is ending right here.

Roman laughs, glancing at his bros, before turning that icy gaze back on me. "And what offenses am I being accused of, exactly?"

I glance over at the side door where Wyn is waiting. When I lift my chin, she steps forward into the dead center of the circle, and she hands each Sacred Son a black envelope.

"Not just you," I answer, reveling in the shock that passes over each one of their faces. When they open their envelopes, I know already what they'll see. Invitations to their tribunal. "All four of you will be tried together."

The shock on their nepo-baby faces is so fucking priceless. They all look at each other, like what the fuck?

"For what offense?" Christian asks, repeating Roman's question.

With the heavy book still in my hands, I turn to the flag I have for Article Three. "Any member of the Burning Crown who is known to have committed one or more of the following offenses should be first given a tribunal before any action is taken—violence against a past or present member (excepting self-defense), blackmail against the society, extortion, or any action that would endanger the society…"

It goes on, but I stop there, looking up to address the room. "I have evidence that all four Sacred Sons took part in the murder of former Burning Crown member, Tyler Savano."

Chatter ripples across the room, but Roman isn't phased by my accusation, even though we both know it's true. He shakes his head and steps forward, an infuriating smile touching his lips. "Our forefathers have been doing shit like that and worse for centuries," he says.

I nod slowly. "See this is the thing though, I don't think they ever thought a woman would call them out on their shit," I say, my gaze unflinching. I shut the book and hold it against my chest. "And it may have taken a couple of centuries, but here I am, calling you the fuck out."

Lucas starts pacing around the semi-circle, and Christian says something to one of the other members, probably asking them to fetch his book. His bylaws will say the same thing.

I made sure to check and double-check everything. Thank God I had Wyn to help me because the language in this book is so stiff, that it's painful to read, let alone understand.

Christian lunges at me, pointing. "You can't fucking do this."

"And yet I am," I say smugly. I shouldn't enjoy this as much as am, but these assholes have to be put in their place.

Roman holds Christian back, his gaze never leaving mine. "Even if you could," he says. "You can't rule the society. You would need an interim officer, and we know you don't have one. He'd have to come from one of the founding families."

I nod slowly, pretending like he's got me there. It's true that male heirs from the founding families are hard to find. Becoming a Sacred Son, even an interim Son, would require a very specific set of qualifications.

"You're right, that does pose a challenge," I say calmly, my eyes never leaving his. "There aren't many guys who are qualified to step into the breach, except—" I hold up a finger and glance at Wyn, who'd moved back to stand by the side door. She nods at me, acknowledging my signal, and opens the door. I turn back to Roman. "There is one person…"

I step aside as a large, cloaked figure walks through the door. He's intimidating, even without the cloak, but with it, he absolutely dominates the space.

Gasps ripple across the room, and I see Roman's gaze drink the figure in, his expression hardening.

Ash steps in beside me, the hood of his cloak pulled over his head. Under the hood, his face is cast in shadow, his features harsh, and his jaw set, making him look dangerous and sinister.

He'll fit right in.

Roman's expression is murderous. If looks could kill, Ash would be a heap of bloody flesh right now.

I lift my chin and raise my voice, so I can be heard over the chatter. "Ethan Ashford was initiated this afternoon under exigent circumstances with ten senior members as witnesses." My gaze shifts to Roman. "Bow to your new king."

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