Page 128 of Impenitent Claim

But now, it was time to rise and defend someone who needed me to be the strongest possible version of myself that I could be.

One short breath filled my lungs.

I rose, aimed, and fired.

The oaf stumbled back, a red burst blooming on his chest. He looked confused. His fingers pawed at the hole.

I was already sprinting through the door when he toppled, which was unfortunate because I would gladly have pushed him over.

From down the hall, the strega screamed, a noise only a banshee could envy. Cecilia sped from her room shouting about fire and murder. If there was an attack, a true enemy come to invade the house, her behavior would ensure she was the first to die. I threw her a cursory glance, checking that she wasn’t armed before rushing to the banister. It was odd that no guards came rushing through the front door at the gunshot, but they also hadn’t come to answer Alonzo’s shouts.

Where was everyone?

But everything else faded away when I spotted the form leaning on the bottom post of the stair banister. Alonzo. It was Alonzo. He looked like a living corpse! Cuts and lacerations decorated skin that was horribly discolored with an array of blotches.

“Lonzo,” I gasped, rushing forward.

Claws dug into my arms, ripping me back with the element of surprise. My gun went flying.

“Get back to your room!” Cecilia declared.

Cursing myself for not having a better hold on the weapon and for letting her sneak up on me, I rounded on the witch. “I’ve had enough, Cece!”

With that, I shoved her—hard.

She stumbled, shrieking as she crashed into the banister. Possessed by some inhuman strength, my body moved without my control. I launched forward, hands extended. The contact was abrupt and sweet.

The strega clutched wildly at me, but I was bigger. Stronger.Angrier.The reign of torment ended now. Smiling at her stammered protests, I lifted and flung her over the railing. Those grasping claws clung to me, not wanting to fall to the foyer floor below. It took three swats to force her to loosen her grip. The stance, and my solid thighs, honed from hours at the gym, kept me from succumbing to gravity, which proved to be my friend.

Cecilia fell.

The screaming filled the foyer, rising in bursts to the vaulted ceiling until the strega crashed into the floor. Silence sharply cut the noise off at the source.

I raced for my gun on the upper landing before sprinting down the stairs to the broken boy who lived.

“Lonzo,” I choked, rushing to embrace him.

He didn’t reach for me, which should have been odd.

But I moved for him, gripping him gently between my fingers.

“No, Isabella, don’t.” He pulled back at my touch.

My hands stilled in mid-air as my gaze darted about for signs of injury. There were too many to count. “What can I do?”

Alonzo wet his lips. “It’s nearly over, Isabella. You’re almost free.”

Confusion knotted inside me. He wasn’t talking about dying, was he? I wouldn’t let him! I reached for him again, but he pulled back, shaking his head.

“Leave it to you to be armed and prepared,” he murmured. “I’m proud of you. You would have made a phenomenal don’s wife—hell, an even better don.”

“Lonzo?” I warned. “You’d better start talking sense.”

He only smiled. “He’s lucky, you know. But I think you’re lucky too. A man like that will keep you safe.”

Something warm washed over me. It couldn’t be….

“A man like whom?” I stammered, even though I already knew the answer.

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