Page 3 of Silverproof Damsel

Before the first arrow could find its mark, he turned to the side. A grunt sounded before a bellowing commenced behind him. The sound of an arrow striking against wood rang out loudly, even as the pain filled shrieks grew shriller than they’d formerly been.

“Stupid bitch!” the giant screamed. Elevating his hand, he aimed the gun at me. The booming resonance discharged from the bullets emitted throughout the space, driving arrow after arrow to defend against each bullet that was fired. “You’ll fucking regret that!” Words he’d end up swallowing violently. That, I was certain of.

Snickering unfeelingly, I sent three arrows at precipitous speed through the sockets of his eyes and mouth, pinning his carcass to the wall.

“Doubtful, asshole,” I grumbled as footsteps started from two different directions. “Stupid is as stupid does, motherfuckers.” Whispering the spell for the spare arrows outside to join the others, I cocked my head to the side as the purring of silver carving through the air emitted all around us.

The glass shattered as the arrows moved to find their mark. The glyphs on my flesh grew brighter as the magic I’d called to me burned hotter. Screams resounded through the house, followed by the sound of arrows digging into wood.

“Gotcha fuckers,” I whispered as I held the magic to me, knowing the moment I released it, I’d be fucked. “Now would be a good time for you to get your ass home, Nyota.”

As I arrived at the entryway, I stopped, taking in the corpses lining the walls. I hadn’t expected as many assailants to be occupying space within my house. Several men wearing strange symbols on their chests hung lifelessly with feathered arrow ends protruding from their mouths and eye sockets.

Nausea churned in my belly, forcing my hand against my lips. A flash of silver made me turn seconds before a disharmonious sound of steel meeting in battle forced me to step back, colliding against a muscular form. Heated breath fanned the back of my neck as a deep, rich rumble of masculine amusement sounded in my ear.

“Down, Remington.” The smooth, whiskey-infused voice demanded. Dropping to my knees, I narrowly avoided being split into two pieces as the clank of steel meeting exploded above me.

Staring up at the lethal blades, I tilted my head until angry azure sparkled with warning.Rhys?Was he here, or had I failedto duck in time? This couldn’t be the afterlife. No one was that cruel.Right?

“Move, Remington,” Rhys’ angry voice demanded as a foot connected against my ribcage. The air whooshed from my lungs as I crawled from between the men’s feet, pushing myself to move quickly.

Crawling over the floor, I felt my magic bleeding from my pores. I searched desperately for more silver nearby to prevent the curse from arising, but I was unsuccessful. The moment the magic fully dispersed, there was a sickening crack above my head.

Glancing up, I watched with large, round eyes as fragments of my ceiling cracked above me. Rolling on the floor, I scarcely evaded being assaulted by my damn ceiling. The instant I managed to gain my footing, something solid smashed into my skull, sending unbearable, intense pain through my head.

A shriek burst from my lips as light exploded behind my eyes. Stumbling forward, I tripped over the hazard as white dots flooded my vision. The distinct sound of swords meeting and cutting through the air forced me to remain on the floor, even as everything within me screamed to flee from the house.

Debris from the ceiling began caving in above me and continued, even as it struck my body. Curling into a fetal position, I shielded my abdomen as best as I could from the brunt of it all. A growl sounded before the thud of a body connecting with a solid surface pricked my ears. A gasp escaped as someone touched my shoulder.

“It’s me. You’re safe with me, Silversmith.” Rhys’ familiar whiskey-smooth voice stated as powerful arms slid around my crumpled frame, lifting me against a solid, muscular chest. “Bloody hell. She’s bleeding badly, Cole. Alert Talia and have her prepare herbs. Tell her we’ll need a healer when we arrive. I’m en route now.”

“Rhys?” I whispered as consciousness slipped away. “You came for me?”

“Is that what you think this is?” he countered as darkness swallowed all coherent thoughts.

Chapter Two

Thesoothingscentoflemongrass and lavender infiltrated my senses, forcing my heavy eyelids open. Pain immediately assaulted my head, forcing a whimper from my dry, cracked lips. The moment I attempted to sit upright, the world tilted around me, spinning out of control.

Pain swam through my head, suggesting I’d ended up concussed by the debris that had pelted me. My hand slid to my abdomen, cradling it protectively. With the other hand on the back of my skull, I groaned and winced at the size of the goose egg on my head.

As I eyed my surroundings, a frown tugged at my lips due to the unfamiliar décor. A cold, icy chill slowly shot from my head down to my toes along my spine. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and resisted the urge to vomit.

My toes squished into a plush carpet, directing my focus to the olive-green rug with a pentagram symbol over it. Cream trim made the same olive-colored walls stand out in contrast to the nature themed palette they’d used to style the room.

On the far side, a large armoire sat with a small, feminine vanity beside it. The other wall had a bookcase filled with ancient looking tomes, each with a pentagram on the spine.

If I was right, I was inside the House of Witches. That meant someone had brought me here or they’d sent the men to my house. That thought left a sour taste in my mouth.

Raven, the only witch who’d dared befriend me, was currently a resident within the house. I wasn’t sure if she held any sway over the head witch Talia, but I was willing to get on my knees and pray she did.

I’d heard conflicting information on the witch alpha Talia. She could be understanding or a straight villain in her antics. She was rumored to run a tight ship, one that adhered to the laws of houses, meaning she’d not offer me sanctuary.

Pressing my fingers to my temples, I rubbed them, trying to recall what had happened right before I’d lost consciousness. Frowning, I wrinkled my nose as I recalled the subtle scent of aftershave. Woodsy, dark whispers of smoke and masculinity.

Rhys had saved me. But why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he just let the men who’d shown up last night kill me? It would rid him of both me and his child, ending his problem altogether.

He hadn’t left me to my fate, though. That befuddled me more than why the men had come after me in the first place. Rhys’ enemies had attacked me before, or so we’d assumed they were his enemies.

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