Page 22 of Royal Protector

“It’s not fair, you know? There are so many things I want, things that every person wants but we don’t get to have. I want to fall in love, get married, and have a handful of kids in a big cozy house. And I don’t get any of that, and I never will. I’m going to die alone, and all that will be left of me is a footnote in some stupid genealogy book.” She looks up at me with bleary eyes. “And you’re the only person in the entire world who will understand.”

“I do. I really do.”

“How can they do this to us? What result do they think they’ll get from this? It’s a stupid tradition that has no part in modern times.”

“You have yet to say something I disagree with,” I say, wetting a paper towel and handing it to her to clean her face. “I hate it too.”

“Do you know how they choose a vampire Untouchable?” she asks as she tries to rescue her smeared makeup.

I pause. “No, I actually don’t.”

“Be glad, then. They don’t choose from any of their vampire families.”

“You mean—” my stomach turns as I realize what she means. “You were turned specifically to be the Untouchable?”

She sniffs and nods. “I was in my first year of college. I was going to be a doctor. They had been observing me for years, observing my parents too. Apparently I hit all their qualifications and I went from future doctor to a pretty thing that vampires can pull out whenever they need to look good.”

“I’m so sorry, Himari. I had no idea.”

She gives me a muted smile. “I just want it to be over, but there’s no escape.”

“And you’re immortal . . . are you stuck in this for the rest of your life?”

She barks out an unamused laugh. “You could say that. They infused my blood with monkshood when I was first turned. It prevents me from immortality. They can’t have the same Untouchable too long. People might get tired of looking at her.” She sighs, and leans into the mirror, checking herself for smudged mascara. “I’ll be alright, Isabella. But it was good to let that out.” She gives me one last hug and leaves, the bathroom door swinging behind her.

I feel sick to my stomach at what she has told me. What was done to her is beyond cruelty, it’s practically a war crime. They made her for one purpose and one purpose only.

I leave the bathroom as well, and Antoine is instantly at my side. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “I can feel your distress.”

I want to tell him that it is nothing, that I just want to go back to the meeting and finish out the day. But it would all be a lie. “I need to go somewhere quiet,” I say instead. “I need to just be me, if only for a moment.”

He nods, and pulls out his phone, typing out a text. When it beeps with a response, he puts it away again. “Jack will buy you some moments. He’ll say you aren’t feeling well and needed to lie down.” He runs his large hand through his dark hair, giving me a sheepish glance. “I’ve, uh, got a room here if you like.”

“You got a room?” I ask, astounded. “Why?”

“In case we were compromised in any way. I could at least have a safe room to take you to.”

“You think of everything,” I say, shaking my head. “Fine. Take me to your hideout.”

Antoine lays his hand on the small of my back, leading me to an elevator. He doesn’t remove it, even though we are alone. His thumb traces soothing patterns back and forth just above my tailbone, and I lean into him.

Once we hit the eighth floor, we get out and he takes me to a basic hotel room. “A suite would have been too conspicuous,” he said. “Hope you’re fine with a basic queen.”

“I couldn’t be happier,” I say as he unlocks the door. The room is relatively nondescript, but still comfortable and well decorated. I sit down on the edge of the bed with an unhappy sigh.

“What happened?” he asks, sitting next to me. “It’s not often that someone goes into a bathroom and comes out sadder than when they went in.”

I smack him lightly on the chest. “I was talking to Himari, that’s all. She has similar feelings about our roles to me.”

“Ah,” he says, a shadow passing over his face. I run a hand over his strong jaw, and he leans into my palm.

“Every day, I feel powerless,” I say, willing myself to be brave enough to say the next few words. “Will you let me feel powerful?”

“Any time,” he says, but his expression is lost.

I’m going to have to show him what I need. I stand, hike up my dress, and sink to my knees in front of him. His eyes go round, and he nearly scrambles off the bed.

“No, no, baby, you don’t have to do that,” he said. “I don’t want to make you do that.”

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