Shouts carried outside the door, and her pulse raced. Thud! Thud! The door bucked.
She drew back, hand to her throat. That sounded like a fight…
Where was Apollo? Was he the one fighting? The thought drew her forward.
The door slammed open.
Leighton took a step back, the moment powering down to a slow, surreal event. Nasir and another man had Apollo by the scruff of the shirt and pitched him in her direction. She tried to brace, but his weight crashed into her. Knocked her backwards. Off her feet. She dropped hard to the floor and careened back. Acutely aware of Apollo atop her. She thumped her head against something. Pain exploded.
He found purchase on the bedframe, and with preternatural skill, leapt up and around. Stood ready for the next punch.
“Stay in there!” Nasir snarled, his own lip bloodied. “If we find you sleeping here again, you will be punished. And if you ever forget to lock her door again, we will?—”
“It was locked!” Leighton stood behind Owen. “You broke the?—”
Eyes dark with outrage and violence, Prince Nasir lunged at her.
That’s when she realized her mistake. And though she jerked her gaze down, it was too late. A storm named Apollo swept in front of her. Taller by a head, he squared his stance. Shoulders rose and hands readied as he slammed into place.
Prince Nasir pulled up sharp. “Get out of the way.”
“Not happening,” Apollo growled. “She’s under my protection. Touch her and it will be the last thing you do.”
“How dare you talk to me like that!”
“Oh, I’m not talking,” Apollo snarled. “Any man threatened by a woman speaking her mind isn’t a man.”
“What did you say to me?” Nasir moved forward.
But a large hand clamped the prince’s shoulder. The slightly taller, bulkier build of Crown Prince Maaz appeared there, self-possessed and disapproving.
Leighton saw Apollo’s raw, feral reflection in the mirror next to where the crown prince stood. The fury.
“What is this?” demanded Maaz.
Nasir flared his nostrils and dabbed his bloody lip. “This infidel was sleeping in the hall in plain view of all women. When I corrected him?—”
“You mean kicked me in the ribs.”
Maaz looked between his brother and Apollo. “Why were you sleeping in the hall?”
Leighton started—Owen had been sleeping in the hall? On the floor? Guilt curled and lodged itself in her lungs, made it hard to breathe.
“Seems assigning me a room was overlooked,” Owen noted acidly.
“You were told to stay in here.”
“It’s inappropriate,” he said. “I will not dishonor Nouri or myself. I’d think more respect would be shown to one of your own.”
“She is not one of our own,” Maaz said with an icy calm, his gaze never meeting hers. He gave a slow nod to Apollo. “We have guests visiting and many staying until Daria’s wedding. You cannot sleep in the hall like a vagrant.”
“Wasn’t my idea of fun either, but it was necessary. I won’t give anyone cause to question Nouri’s purity or character.”
Shocked at his straightforward words, Leighton drew in a breath. Looked away even as she noted the words seemed to impact the princes too.
“If you both do not want to find yourselves in a cell again, stay in this room, door locked,” Maaz instructed.
The rattle of a tray—her breakfast, no doubt—sounded beyond the door.
