Page 4 of Silverproof Damsel

The first attempt against my life was weeks after I’d separated from Rhys. Nyota had handled it rather efficiently. Hours after she’d fought and captured one, I’d listened outside the shed as she’d questioned him extensively.

The knight had refused to respond to Nyota’s questions at first. Eventually, he’d sung like a siren on a bender. He’d admitted, rather loudly, that they intended to kidnap Van Helsing’s silver before he could control her. I was Rhys’ silver,meaning they’d intended to take me, preventing Rhys from gaining more control than he’d already held.

The second attack hadn’t had anything to do with Rhys. He’d been rather hell-bent on ending all Silversmiths, even though I wasn’t claiming to be one. Still, it had nothing to do with Rhys, yet everything to do with my mother’s promise to end certain houses, which this asshole wanted me to fulfill after her untimely death.

He’d been adamant about me starting my fiery reign with the House of Witches. He’d wanted to ensure the House of Witches never had a chance to rise, unaware they already had done so. His reasoning was that of a spurned, jealous lover.

Apparently, Talia had rejected his advances to be bedded by the gentleman. I used that term in the loosest feasible way. Once Talia refuted his intentions, he moved on to her sister. Next, Talia’s younger sister hexed his manly bits. And while I understood his frustration, I failed to see where he thought he could rid the world of them in retaliation for what had been done, or without a vow of promise from us.

It didn’t matter where I turned. Someone desperately wanted to end my existence. Luckily, I had one hell of a protection detail. Until last night, but an entire month had passed without incident or any more assassins attempting to cut my life short.

Rhys was merely just another issue I was forced to deal with on top of everything else. Not to mention, he’d refused to allow me to raise my own house. To do so, I’d need most of the alphas to vote in my favor. And they’d never vote for me unless Rhys himself approved of them to do so.

The doorknob twisted, pulling my attention toward it as panic sliced through my chest. Rising, I swayed on my feet as I rushed toward the window within the chamber. I pulled it open and thrust my head outside, gaping at the daunting distance from the bedroom to the ground.

What in the fuck? Was it magic? If I were in the House of Witches, it would make sense. Looking down, I could only see green, and a sense of defeat brought tears to my eyes.

Searching for the only possible point of escape, I sensed any hope of fleeing diminished as footsteps sounded behind me. I spun around, then prepared to attack. All the fight inside me sputtered out when my eyes landed on Rhys, who stood less than a couple of steps away from me.

The world stopped turning as our eyes met, sealing together like a lock and key. The thudding in my head from my heart racing drowned all other sounds out. My lips parted, closing tightly without the ability to form coherent thoughts or allow any words to escape.

Rhys’ stormy azure gaze drilled into me, as if he were searching through the deepest, darkest secrets of my soul. Warmth sliced through me, strumming me to life with merely his contiguity. I held back the bubble that was about to escape as a whimper retreated, desiring space from him.

“Seeking to elude me, Silversmith?” The biting chill of his tone sent alarm bells off in my mind as ice rushed through my veins. “I’d think long and hard about trying such nonsense, considering your current predicament. Talia’s house is unlike the others. I expect the ground is unreachable outside that windowpane.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Snapping past the fear tightening in my throat, I held his gaze with a warning shining from mine.

“I have my reasons for ensuring you survive to reach your immortality.” He used a single finger to tuck a wayward curl behind my ear. The simple action sent a wealth of need and emotion shooting through my frame.

Resentment at myself for how my body betrayed me followed the same path the arousal took from my head, straight down to my toes.

“I should leave,” I breathed past the dryness of my mouth.

Guffawing darkly, Rhys tipped his head, a cruel smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I’m afraid that isn’t possible. You’ve not been granted sanctuary within this house. As of right now, I’m undecided about what to do with you.” His knuckles brushed over my cheek, then a single finger hooked beneath my chin, forcing my face to lift until our eyes clashed with fury simmering within both. “Don’t sulk too much. It makes me want those pouty lips wrapped around my cock—”

Slapping his hand away, I trembled with anger. “Fuck you, Van Helsing. Find someone else who’s willing to deal with your mood swings. Your dick isn’t worth the whiplash that comes with it. You don’t get me anymore. Any chance you had of that was lost when you chose to proclaim that I meant less than nothing to you in front of everyone.” I hissed from between clenched teeth, glaring at him contemptuously.

“Strange way of thanking me for saving your life.” The azure in his eyes sparkled with mirth, as if he found amusement in the situation.

“I didn’t need your help. I could’ve managed it myself,” I susurrated. I stepped away from him, then moved around the bed for more distance from him. Once I’d positioned the large bed between us, I turned to face him, fixing him with an indifferent gaze.

“It looked like you were managing just fine before I arrived. Right up until the ceiling caved in on that thick skull of yours.” Stepping up to the window, Rhys reached out, closing it before facing me. Positioned by the windowpane with his shoulder resting against the wall, he smirked arrogantly. As he folded hisarms over his wide, muscular chest, it caused the cuffs to rise on his wrists, revealing hints of colorful ink.

Rhys had changed. He wore his signature suit he always had on, but there was something enigmatic about him now. Something I couldn’t put a name to or identify. Licking his full bottom lip, he stared at me until I silently began to fidget.

With an annoyed grunt upon my refusal to quarrel, he thrust his hands into his pockets, studying me through cold, tightening eyes.

“I found something rather intriguing last night,” he started as he pushed from the window, pacing beside the bed that stood between us.

When he didn’t elaborate, my curiosity grew. “And what is that, Van Helsing?” I’d be damned if I used his name. I’d spent the past three months fending for my life while being destitute because he’d frozen all my accounts.

“Your curse activated for a short time before stopping. Normally, it lasts for a prolonged period.” Turning, he aimed a thin, pointed look toward me. “I’d like to know why that is.”

“I’d like to know why you’re such an asshole or blame me for shit I had zero control over, but I’m going to take a gander that you’re not going to elaborate on that. You have your secrets. I have mine.” I had no idea why the curse wasn’t active. It should’ve been. He smiled coldly until I flipped my hair, putting my hand on my belly.

The moment I covered the curve of my abdomen, Rhys’ focus fell to my middle. Leisurely, it climbed back up to settle on my face. A crooked smile played over his mouth. As he started forward, it triggered me to take three steps in the opposite direction.

“Frightened yet?”

---