Page 27 of Royal Protector

I bite my lip, but in the end, I can’t keep secrets from him. “Martina knows about us.”

The growl that reverberates through him is frightening in its intensity. “Knows what exactly about us?”

“Not that we’re Mates, thankfully. Just that we’ve been . . . exploring each other physically.” I turn to see his expression, but he just looks worried. “Basically, she wants me to fuck you out of my system and move on.”

He shudders and gives me a slow grin. “I do like hearing you say that word.” The leering smile drops as quickly as it appeared. “But this is not a good development.”

I gaze up at him. “Do you think we should stop? Do you think we’re ruining the chances of peace between the groups?”

He shakes his head. “Not if Jack and Leo have anything to say about it. I told Leo we were Mates yesterday. We have his support in whatever difficulty lies ahead. I can’t imagine Jack not being the same way. Maybe we just need to fight for this, and take the consequences as they come.”

Even as my spirit soars at his words, I still feel like I’m doing something wrong, betraying everything I’ve been taught my whole life. “But what if we’re just being selfish?”

“Are we?” he asks, cocking his head to peer down at me. “Tell that to the future Untouchables who will have to live this same life if we don’t try to fight for their future too. Tell that to anyone who is held back by the ridiculous traditions we’ve set in place. I think they’d want us to fight for them just as much as ourselves.”

I can’t help it after those wonderful words.

I wrap my arms around his muscular neck and pull him down into a heated kiss. His hands cup the sides of my waist, tugging me closer into his arms. We kiss and kiss until we need to stop for air, and though I would rather do this for the rest of the night—for the rest of my life—I pull away and straighten my dress.

“Let’s go have fun,” he says, placing that ever-protective hand on the small of my back. “We’ll deal with the rest later.”

I follow him out into the hallway, but I know that later isn’t that far away at all, and we will very soon have to face the results of our actions.

ANTOINE

Honestly, I would have been happy with a nice BLT for dinner, but Isabella is extremely excited to taste all the samples from around the world that the vampires have provided us. Two long rows of dining tables are set down in the middle of the ballroom, and different stalls from countries worldwide are lined against the walls.

Some of the best vampire chefs in the world stand behind each stall, and I can’t imagine the money Leo shelled out to fly them all here for this one night.

Somehow, Isabella and Leo make it their mission to feed the grumpy bodyguard. Leo is bringing me plates of spicy ravioli, watching me for my reactions as if I’m a famous food critic.

Isabella nearly pulls my arm off, tugging me towards the table for her home country of Spain, handing me a croqueta on a fork and laughing when I instantly drop it on the floor. The little bastards are slippery; what can I say?

Isabella is the perfect guest, sampling something at every booth until she clutches her stomach and begs off. I, on the other hand, found the South African stall halfway through our culinary adventure and refused to try anything from any other stall.

Instead, I kept returning to that particular stall, chaperoned by a chef from Cape Town, and stealing seconds, thirds, and fourths of a dessert the chef referred to as Malva pudding.

I’m quickly addicted to the moist cake flavored with apricot jam, and Isabella teases me every time I flash puppy dog eyes so we can return to my favorite stall.

The evening is absolutely perfect, and the tension that had plagued the beginning of the conference has faded into easy laughter and happy conversations.

In a move with both Isabella and I dropping our jaws, Anna walks arm in arm with Ephram, the difficult Alpha from Utah, charming him into trying a dish of barbecued gopchang from South Korea with her.

“Alright, Antoine,” says Leo, surprising me by appearing at our side. “Tell me what the best food was, and I’ll give my compliments to the chef.”

“You don’t need to,” laughs Isabella. “He’s already proposed to the chef from South Africa in exchange for her Malva pudding.”

I shrug sheepishly. It was a hell of a good dessert.

“Nothing from Italy?” gasps Leo, feigning offense. “I’ll have you know that I supervised the making of—”

I’ll never know what dish Leo supervised it because, at that moment, an explosion rocks the ballroom, followed by the familiar hiss of a smoke bomb canister. I push Isabella to the ground, covering her with my body.

I grab Leo’s leg as we hit the ground, tugging him down and rolling us under one of the long dining tables. Screams and gunfire, along with the cracking of broken furniture and shattered glass, break out around us. Leo lifts his head and meets my gaze. He’s gone full vamp, his eyes dark, and his fangs fully descended.

“Someone has fucked with my party,” he growls, and before I can stop him, he rolls back out from under the table, leaps to his feet, and runs into the fray like a madman on a mission.

Isabella’s body shakes undermine as she coughs and coughs, her body trying to expel the heavy smoke from her lungs.

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