Elias stood next to Jeremiah and Caspian, a flute of ice water in his hand. He never drank alcohol at these events, preferring to keep his wits about him. His water was untouched as well and would remain that way until he dropped the vessel off on a passing tray. He couldn’t verify where the water had come from, precisely, and Inari’s situation reminded him it was better to be cautious than wind up drugged.

Or dead.

The gala was in full swing around them, the dance floor packed with glittery dresses and men in tuxedoes. Purple and turquoise lights cast a tint over the entire room, which was quite large and situated at the top of a prominent Berlin hotel. Elias had attended galas there before, usually after a conference such as the one they’d been to earlier.

Now it was party time, and the elite of the world were binging on alcohol and each other’s company.

Elias’s gaze landed on Inari as she crossed the room, her guards close behind. She’d excused herself some minutes prior for a visit to the ladies’ room. She looked stunning in a champagne-colored gown with beads sewn into the bodice and along sleeves that reached her delicate wrists. She’d worn her hair up, the tawny mass arranged into a neat coif decorated by a few strings of seed pearls.

“So far, so good,” Jeremiah said, his gaze sweeping the crowd.

Elias knew what Jer meant. No attempts, nothing out of place.

So far.

“The security is crazy tight. Between the gala’s own force and that of everyone else’s personal guard, I think it would be tough for an assassin to make an attempt in a place like this,” Caspian said.

Elias shifted his attention to the dance floor just before Inari rejoined them. She’d been at their side the entire evening so far, and though she projected an air of calm confidence, he suspected she was suffering a case of nerves and anxiety—and who could blame her?

“It’s so crowded,” Inari said as she came to stand between Elias and Jeremiah.

Elias glanced down and studied her profile. The berry-colored lipstick offset her olive skin to perfection. “These shindigs usually are.”

Her lashes swept up, gaze making contact with his. Elias nearly forgot himself and drank from the glass. He lowered his hand before his lips touched the rim.

“It seems extra crowded to me tonight. I’m not sure why,” she said.

“Probably all the added security,” Jeremiah replied.

“Everyone’s brought ten or twelve guards with them, I think,” Caspian added.

Elias set his untouched water on a passing tray then pocketed his hand. “I believe more invites were sent out, as well.”

“The list was quite long,” Inari said. “Your brother and sisters are not in attendance, Elias. I’m surprised they’re not present. Yours as well, Caspian.”

“Emily and my mother are in Africa on a photography trip. Erick and Eliana were otherwise preoccupied,” Elias said.

“Adrian, Evert and Iver are in America with a few other friends,” Caspian said of his brothers. “My sister is currently ill. She complained mightily about not being able to attend.”

“I should have a ball at home. Invite your sisters so that we can all get to know each other better,” Inari said. “It’s ridiculous that our countries border each other and we’re not more closely acquainted.”

“My sisters and Caspian’s are pretty tight. You’ve been off to school in other countries, remember? That’s probably why you don’t know them as well,” Elias said. Although he and his siblings had spent time in many other countries, they hadn’t remained for extensive schooling as Inari had. They’d done the majority of their learning at home.

“I’ll fix that,” Inari said.

Elias laughed along with Caspian and Jeremiah. Elias said, “I just bet you will. Any excuse to dress up, right?”

Jeremiah muttered, which amused Elias all the more.

“It’s not just about the clothes,” Inari said with a huff.

Elias watched Jeremiah gaze at Inari, with humor, yes, but he wondered if there was more. He couldn’t quite shake the sensation that Jeremiah might be interested in the future queen. Sometimes Jeremiah could be difficult to read, even for one who’d known him all his life.

Then again, Jeremiah’s reasons for the interest could be far different than he imagined. His best friend never failed to surprise him.

It’s about the clothes, Jeremiah mouthed to Inari, and winked.

Elias snuffed out a laugh.

“Pardon me, Prince Elias. I wondered . . . if you would like to dance.”

Elias swung his head around. The breathy, heavy French accent belonged to a dainty woman with stunning almond-shaped eyes and an oval face framed by wisps of blond hair. She wore a shimmering dress the color of midnight that accentuated her narrow waist and modest bust line.

Typically, he only danced with a few select women at these kinds of parties. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy a woman’s company, but that if he didn’t turn some of them down, he would be plied relentlessly until he had to escape the function altogether or lose his mind. The few years that he’d played rogue between his twentieth and twenty-third birthdays had well and truly caught up to him.

Not only that, but he was a little hesitant to leave Inari’s side. Which was ridiculous, he supposed. She was literally surrounded by protection.

Yet, if he didn’t mingle at all, with anyone, he’d probably get painted as standoffish or rude or something to that effect.

Still, he hesitated.

The woman smiled and tilted her head, as if curious over his delay.

“He’d love to dance with you, Marguerite,” Inari said with a nudge to Elias’s side.

That Inari knew the woman shouldn’t have surprised him. He gave Inari a wry look and offered Marguerite his elbow.

One dance wouldn’t kill him.

He escorted the woman to the dance floor and eased her into his arms, courteous and polite as he’d been raised to be.

No sooner had he begun the steps of the dance than a triple plink-plink-plink drew his attention to the wall of windows.

Screams erupted immediately and sudden chaos broke out.

“Under fire!” someone called.

That’s what had punched through the glass. Bullets.

Elias covered Marguerite with his body, acting on nothing but instinct. He was the closest, the best line of defense between her and the gunfire. He shot a look back for Inari, Jeremiah, and Caspian, but there were too many moving pieces. Too much action. Guards had encircled the most prominent members of the gala—including himself. His personal security team was there in seconds, using their hands to guide him through the crowd toward the closest exit.

The French woman panted through her fear and huddled against his side.

Elias considered it his duty to see Marguerite someplace safe, or as safe as it was likely to get with guns going off. They exited into a hall, and his guard urged him toward a stairwell rather than the elevator.

“Where are Inari and the others?” Elias wanted updates. He held the door for Marguerite and placed a steadying hand low on her spine. The heels she wore made a rapid descent impossible. She wobbled a little as she went down and Elias silently cursed the shoes.

“No word yet,” a guard said.

Elias knew they were concentrating on getting him out of there, but he couldn’t shake the idea that the bullets had been for Inari. His friends had been close by, within easy range should the shots miss their intended target.

Hell, they could all three be dead for all he knew.

Marguerite’s stiletto caught in a perforation on the next step. She pitched forward with a soft cry of distress.

Elias swooped in, snatched her up in his arms, and charged down at a much faster clip than they’d been able to achieve thus far. His security team swarmed around him, clustered in front and behind, clearing the way ahead and watching their rear.

He was sweating by the time they reached the fifth floor. The lead guard stopped and held up a fist, bringing the entourage to a halt.

“Your Highness, I suggest we go straight to the Latvalan Embassy. Is that your preference?” the guard asked with a sharp glance back.

Elias spared a few seconds to consider. He, Jeremiah, Caspian, and Inari were all staying in a nearby hotel in the presidential suite. Two guards had remained behind to secure the suite from nefarious doings, but that didn’t mean someone hadn’t taken out the guards and were even then lying in wait somewhere inside.

If he went to the embassy, he would be separated from the others until they figured out what happened. It was probably the safest, wisest course of action.

What he really wanted to do was find Marguerite’s people, transfer her into their care, and locate his friends.

Above them, on a different floor, a door flew open and hit the wall with a thud that reverberated down the stairwell shaft.

Elias glanced up, as did everyone else.

No doubt it was someone else from the gala fleeing the scene, but what if it wasn’t?

“Embassy,” Elias said, moving down behind his guards as they all went into action again.

He had a person to protect, an innocent life to see to safety.

That needed to be his first priority.

He was still carrying Marguerite as they exited onto the ground floor of the hotel. Elias heard shouts and running footsteps in the grand foyer to their right.

His guards went first, guns drawn, and scouted the hallway.

Elias pressed his spine against the wall while the rest of his team placed themselves in front of him and Marguerite. A wall of flesh and bulletproof vests to intercept any more shots.

He wondered if Inari was still alive. Jeremiah. Caspian.

Where were they? He found it hard to believe that Caspian’s people, or Inari’s for that matter, had used the elevators. Protocol and common sense dictated the stairs every time in situations like these.

Jeremiah, he knew, could handle himself.

Unless he’d been too close to Inari—no. He wouldn’t even think about it.

Jeremiah was fine.

There was no time to use his phone to call or text. It would have to wait.

“Clear!” the guard in front called.

They were on the move again, charging through the foyer toward the exit doors. Elias darted quick looks past his people at the other faces rushing through the foyer.

He recognized a few from the gala, but not Inari or Jer or Caspian.

Dammit.

At the doors, two of his men went out first to clear the area. Elias could see limousines parked haphazardly beneath the broad breezeway, could see security and guests running this way and that. No one else was being allowed inside, of course, and the hotel security knew better than to block the escape of so many dignitaries. The flow only went one way: out.

Elias set Marguerite on her feet but kept an arm wrapped around her slim waist.

When it was time to move, they needed to move.

No hesitations, no balking.

He wasn’t sure what she would do and thus intended to help her if she froze up at the wrong time.

She broke into a sudden spate of French and pointed at a group of three men running their way.

“I don’t understand. Threat?” Elias said. He spoke six languages and, of course, French was not among them.

It figured.

“My guards, my guards!” Marguerite said in English this time.

Now he understood. “Be safe.”

Elias released her once her people reached them and transferred her care into theirs. Marguerite glanced back with a stark look of gratitude before being herded into a waiting sedan. He wasted no time climbing into the back of his own vehicle, which had been ready and waiting thanks to an alert from his guards. The limousine sped away from the hotel, as did several others. Elias scoured the scene for signs of his friends.

He cursed under his breath and finally fished his phone from his pocket.

The first number he dialed was Jeremiah’s.

---

Inari chatted happily with Jeremiah and Caspian, though her gaze strayed once or twice to Elias and Marguerite on the dance floor. They made a fine couple, and would probably generate some international buzz on the tabloid scene. Elias commanded attention with his sheer size and handsome smile and the smooth way he utilized the dance floor.

It was no wonder he was such a sought-after partner.

One minute she’d been discreetly admiring Elias, the next something buzzed her head and punched into the wall behind her.

It had taken Jeremiah exactly two seconds to react. He grabbed her and pulled her low, one arm wrapped around her shoulders. In that manner, they scuttled past a table or two until her guards surrounded them and took over.

Inari got separated from Jeremiah and called out—to no avail. He was gone and her guards adamantly moved her forward. They hurried her from the ballroom and into the hall. Because of a line of people near a stairwell exit, they bustled her into an adjacent room—a smaller conference room or meeting room, gone dark because it wasn’t in use—and stood guard while others fled the scene.

Only after a fifteen minute wait and a few calls to the hotel security did they go on the move again. During those fifteen minutes, she’d had time to think about what had just happened.

Someone had tried to kill her.

Again.

It put a tremor in her fingers and made her heart race.

Why? Why her? What had she done? What was the reason they needed her out of the way?

She had no time to dwell on the answers. They went down too many stairwells to count until they hit the ground floor, and then her guards commandeered a sedan to whisk her away. The streets of Berlin flashed by in hectic glimpses as the driver got them the hell out of there. He drove them past high-rises, gothic-style churches, and other old architecture. Inari was too focused on whether the others had made it to safety to pay much attention to Berlin’s beautiful details.

“Where are we going?” Inari asked.

“The same private airstrip we landed at. We’ve requested a helicopter loan from the German government. It should be here shortly,” the driver said.

She sat back in the seat.

So much for thinking she would be safe in a group of people.

She fished her phone out of her purse and made a call, desperate to know if Elias, Caspian, and Jeremiah had made it out alive.