Page 4

"Here you go, Love," Harper said, handing me another ice pack he had gotten from the kitchen for me.

My shoulder was killing me; taking at least two-hundred-forty-five additional pounds to it multiple times when we landed on the floor really took its toll on my body.

"I can't believe you two beat the bloody hell out of each other for over four hours straight!"

"Shut it," I groaned.

I couldn't believe we did either!

I was hungry, sore, tired, and humbled.

Unbelievably humbled.

Four things I didn't particularly care for.

Prince de Babineaux was an exceptional fighter, which was surprising since he was a crowned Prince of one of the first Five Houses of Vampires.

In my experience, crowned anything didn't know how to protect themselves and couldn't fight their way out of a wet paper bag, and that was why they required Sentinels.

It made me even more suspicious of him...

Curious about him, which was suspicious because I was never curious about any male or royal.

"Why don't you go to the Healing Center and soak?" Slevin asked, joining us with two trays of food in hand then slid them down to me.

I had a lot of calories to replenish. I missed breakfast and my first two academic-based classes of the day.

"Healing pools are reserved for Royals and the critically injured," I reminded him before shoving a heaping bite of beef brisket-loaded mac and cheese in my mouth. "Besides, I did it to myself. I should have tapped out like a dozen times," I mumbled with my mouth full.

Slevin shivered in disgust; he hated it when I talked with my mouth full, but I was starving and had a lot of calories to recover.

Being one of twenty-five female Sentinels-in-training at the Vancouver Academy, I always felt as if I had to represent and step up my game, to be more because of my gender and because I'm a Mundane. I had been ranked number one in the program, number one out of everyone including upperclassmen, those of pure-blooded races, and males, since my first year until today when Prince de Babineaux beat me, and that wasn't acceptable...

But at the same time, I just didn't care at the moment.

I just wanted to eat and sleep and pretend none of this happened.

I hated losing, and I hated being beaten.

It was unofficial that Prince de Babineaux was ranked number one now because he didn't actually challenge me, and everyone in the class knew it, even he did. And when I offered that he could retroactively challenge me since he was new and didn't know the rules, he merely shook his head uninterested, which wasn't normal in the least.

Why would someone subject themselves to hours of getting beat on, and beating on someone else in return, the number one ranked Sentinel-in-training even, if they had no interest in a program ranking, being a Prince or not?

The stubborn creature made no sense and it was driving me crazy trying to figure him out!

"The Healing Center is open to everyone," Slevin said. "You need it, you look like Hell chewed you up and spit you out, and ate you again because it had nothing better to do."

My support system was sickening at times.

"Vanity is your sin of choice, Shorty, not mine," I reminded him before scraping the last of the mac and cheese into my mouth before starting on the next meat dish.

Harper looked from the carb and meat-heavy dishes I had finished to what was left. "I'll get you some vegetables that are iron-rich and a few drinks since you refuse to get healing like a normal lad would," he said.

I smiled as I chewed.

"I'll put in an order for our pantry. Yakult Joia, Ichi Nichi Bun no Tetsubun Nomu Yogurt, Chocola BB, the Fe Charge ones," Slevin said, his mobile phone in hand, his fingers tapping away to make a note for when he went to the dispensary to put in an order for our suite. "Did you want anything else, Beautiful?" he asked me.

"Since you are getting a Japanese care package get some Macrobiha, the almond and cranberry flavored ones, an assortment of SOYJOY bars since we're out, Asahi's Cream Genmai Bran bites in the double berry flavor because I know you ate them all again, some Yakult would be nice, and an assortment of Calbee snacks, but make sure you get the granola clusters and the shrimp chips if nothing else."

Slevin gagged. "So nasty," he said, making a face.

"I'm part-Japanese, that's the least disgusting of flavors I could have requested," I reminded him before shoving more food in my mouth.

It was amusing really, for being part-Japanese I was extremely tall, even for a female, pushing just over six feet like my terrifying South African Mother.

Even if I wasn't one of the few female Sentinels-in-training at the Academy, I would stand out because of my unique heritage and looks. More than one Prince or Head of Household had propositioned my parents for my hand in marriage simply because of my looks, which made me sick to my stomach, and caused my parents to roar with laughter over the thought of their daughter ever agreeing to such.

Marriage should be for love, not arranged or bartered for whatever it is Royals barter marriages for.

African-Asian blends, Blasians as Slevin calls it, are rare around here; my complexion is more coffee with warm creamy undertones with soft freckles that bridge across my nose and under my eyes—I got those from my mother. Father has porcelain with a creamy yellow undertone complexion, and Mother's is warm red-toned-brown with freckles; she is what they call a redbone in the African culture. Father has black hair and lapis lazuli-colored eyes, and Mother has silvery-white hair and pale gold eyes; Zane and I got heterochromia because of it. My hair is a light brown that is naturally streaked with golden honey highlights and amber lowlights that hangs in soft curls midway down my back; I have my mother's curl but my father's softness, and my Scottish Grandfather's hair color.

Genetics are truly impressive sometimes.

Instead of being lanky, I was toned and curvy with breasts and a round ass; that was all from my mother's side of the family.

Vampiresses, like their male counterparts, tend to be dainty; very lean, or unhealthily skinny, with blue eyes, and small breasts.

It was because of their diets, according to studies, but I'm questioning that now since Prince de Babineaux was anything but skinny and he had green eyes, not blue, and black hair instead of blond.

Most of the varying magical classifications and races come in all shapes and sizes though, but Sentinels are toned or muscular due to their intense training regimen.

"Ooh, roasted broccoli," I beamed with excitement when Harper set a plate piled high with roasted vegetables down in front of me. "I love you."

"You better, Love," he said, stacking up my empty plates before recording each for me.

If I burn more calories than I take in, it isn't good, and Harper was hyper-aware of that.

More than once he's found me face down on the floor unconscious from exhaustion and not regulating and offsetting my caloric intake.

The joys of having overprotective roommates who are like brothers.