Page 36 of Royal Protector

I take the pearls in my hand, running the cool slippery beads through my fingers. “I suppose we have to try,” I say at last. Despite my weariness, I know that Jack has a plan, and I just have to trust him, because the opposite is too terrible to think about.

* * *

My dress sparkleswith my every move, and my makeup is immaculate tonight. My hair cascades down my back in soft, dark curls, held in place on top of my head by a shining tiara. I look like a princess on the way to her wedding, but I feel like I’m headed to a funeral.

This time, the ride into the city is silent. I’m in Maura and Grady’s SUV, sitting alone in the back seat. Everything feels wrong without Antoine beside me. The Mate bond between us is muted, and I wonder if Antoine has done it on purpose. Every so often, I feel a gentle pulse of love and affection travel through it, but nothing else.

When we arrive at the center, Grady goes to park the car after dropping Maura and I at the front door. Instead of going inside, though, Maura lifts a finger to her mouth, signaling to me be quiet. Then, she leads me to the back of the building, where a smaller utility door is set into the brick.

“I can get you ten minutes,” she says quietly, opening the door. “But after that, you have to come out.”

“Where are we—” I start, and then I sense him. Antoine. He’s here.

She leads me through a double set of doors to a single cell inside a stark room. Antoine sits against the wall on a wooden bench, his head bowed. As soon as I step inside the room, he jolts upward, his eyes flaring at the sight of me.

“Isabella,” he calls out in a hoarse voice. “You can’t be here.”

“I can too,” I say stubbornly, running to him, reaching for his hand through the iron bars. “I hate seeing you in here. Have you heard anything new?”

He shakes his head, and I notice the worry lines bracketing his eyes. “It’s not good, Isabella. The evidence is air tight. The only thing we can think of is that the murderer used some sort of mimic spell, copying my scent and fingerprints, but that is nearly impossible to prove.” His eyes dart toward Maura, gratitude shining in his expression for bringing me to see him.

“Now, I want you to listen real carefully,” he says, covering my hand with his. “You know how this sort of thing works with our people. It isn’t like the human trials. If they don’t find the real murderer soon, then . . .” he trails away before describing what will happen. A swift execution, via a silver bullet straight to the heart. “I love you, Isabella. You are my Mate, and the most important thing to me. If this past week is all I get with you, then I am so thankful I had it, no matter what comes next.” He reaches through the bars and swipes a tear from my cheek.

“This shouldn’t be happening,” I murmur. “I won’t be able to live without you.”

“You can and you will. Show everyone the mate mark. Show them how you rebelled, and you aren’t ashamed. And then show them the true leader you are, and bring in the change that we all need. Jack and Leo will help you move on.”

Maura clears her throat. “We need to go. I’m sorry.”

Antoine pulls my hand through the bars and kisses the back of it. “Until next time, baby. Whenever and wherever that may be.”

The last thing I feel as Maura leads me away from my Mate is his heavy gaze on my back, protective to the last breath.

ISABELLA

To say that the third gala is a bust is an understatement. While most of Leo’s vampires make an appearance, only a third of the Alpha werewolves show up. Leo and Jack don’t bother with a receiving line, choosing to walk around the room and mingle with whoever will actually talk to them.

To my surprise, Maura hands me over to Buck Galston. “He’s your date for the night,” she explains. “So I can help Bastien and Grady run extra security detail.” She gives me a nod and, after a moment, a hug.

“So I’m stuck with you?” I say without any heat, taking Buck’s offered arm.

He laughs, leading me to the dance floor. We get into position for a slow dance, although the soft music sounds ridiculously at odds with the morose mood of the room.

“Jack told me about Antoine,” Buck says in a low voice as we sway to the music. “I’m sorry. I’ll do what I can to help.”

“For someone who was such a jerk, you’re being awfully nice,” I say, sniffling a little.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “I can be a hothead and a blowhard. You’re not saying anything anyone hasn’t said before.”

“I do appreciate you sticking around for Leo and Jack. None of your peers did the same.”

Buck blushes a little, so I stop with the praise, allowing him to sweep me around the ballroom instead. He’s an excellent dancer, but my thoughts are only filled with the imprisoned man downstairs.

Bastien motions us to the bar with a quick hand wave, a frown on his normally happy features. We stop dancing and walk toward him, and he hands us each a glass of champagne.

“Drink it slowly and act like we’re having a good time,” he whispers.

I nod and take a sip, letting the bubbles dissolve on my tongue.

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