Page 79 of Silverproof Damsel

“You just wanted the baby,” Ian snorted in reply. “Same as the rest of us. She’s the symbol of life and rebirth. It’s why we flock to her. She’s what we’re all missing. A living, breathing symbol of hope for what we’ve lost. A chance to be a father. To watch a child of our own grow, to carry on our lineage, even if not ours by blood.”

“You all want something from her,” Nyx interjected herself into their musings. “She’s not a rabbit foot. You don’t get to use her for what you’re missing. You need to find your own rabbit’s foot. Stop using her as a crutch. Remington’s soft and gentle. None of you knows how to handle someone like her. Rhys does,he just needs his head knocked around a few times to get some sense into the damn overly inflated thing,” she scolded, rebuke sharply embedded in her tone.

“Jesus, enough with the honesty already. I’m feeling like shit, and I don’t like feeling anything,” Hunter grumbled.

“This wasn’t listed on my list of shit to go sideways,” Conrad grouched. “Felicity, not now. You’re not in heat yet. My knot’s still fucking sore from Cassie trying to drain it for nine straight hours last night.”

A pang twisted in my chest as the truth of why they’d been with me was laid bare. None of them had been around because of me. They’d been close at hand because of the baby, which each one of them had plainly stated from the very beginning. I’d just been too stupid to hear what they’d all been clearly saying.

They’d never wanted me. Not the gaudy, clumsy offspring of a murderous bitch. The alphas clearly only wanted the child I carried, which made them no better than the asshole who impregnated me in the first place.

“That didn’t have shit to do with balls. She was nervous and blurted it out,” Mikel’s dark, whiskey-drenched timbre added. “Right now, she’s probably trying to find a way to take it back.” Grunts and sounds of agreement followed as Mikel released a deep, loud exhale from his lungs.

“Poor Rhys, having to deal with shit. He’s made it very clear to that girl that he’ll never love her or want her for more than what lies between her thighs,” Arryn added with a soft snort, following his negation.

“Shut the hell up,” Nyota snapped, her irritation mirroring my own. “She can fucking hear you. If I know Remington, which I do, she didn’t mean to blurt that out in such a manner. Rhys won’t handle it well, either.”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I slammed the bathroom door hard enough that the wall shuddered from theforce of it closing. Locking the handle, I walked to the shower, twisting the nozzle until the water was as high and hot as it would go. Steam promptly billowed from the showerhead, floating into the room.

Moving to the counter, I jumped up onto it. Sliding back, I let my head fall back against the mirror, then hugged my knees against my chest, or as close as they’d get to it, then allowed the tears of anger to fall. My heartbeat thundered against my ribcage as I freed the tears, which I’d barely been able to hold as rejection stung through my soul, slicing it to ribbons once more.

How had I allowed it to happen again?

Why did I continually allow Rhys to breach my defenses, only to then drive a blade into my vulnerable, wounded heart?

He had a way of showing me everything I’d ever wanted, then crushing it at my feet. I was the idiot who allowed him in, who handed him the mallet, and then stood beside him as he destroyed it all.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Tippingmyheadbackagainst the bathroom mirror, I opened my eyes. The entire room was filled with steam. Warm, welcoming heat drifted over the exposed flesh of my arms and legs. Soothing, yet disturbing, as it carried the hint of Rhys’ aftershave in eddies and swirls of heated air.

Inhaling his earthy, masculine scent into my lungs, I shivered against the desire to chase after him. To call him back and assure him I hadn’t meant the three words I’d blurted out in a moment of weakness.

Had I meant them? Yes, unequivocally.

If I were being honest, I’d admit I’d fallen in love with him before I’d left this place the first time. Rhys was easy to love, even when he made it clear he wasn’t interested in loving anyone or anything.

The man walked on the left side of me, always. He pulled out chairs, opened doors, and was chivalrous in ways most men were no longer taught to be these days.

Rhys was every woman’s dream. Gentle when the need called for it, but he wasn’t afraid to manhandle you, either. He oozedvirility and masculinity in droves. Where most men were afraid of strong women, he encouraged them to be so.

Rhys was everything I’d ever wanted and everything I’d never known I needed. He wasn’t like the one night stand I’d had before arriving in this town. It was like he’d stepped right out of my head, becoming a reality.

I hadn’t intended to tell him any of that. I sure as hell hadn’t meant to blurt out my feelings. Rhys didn’t deserve the love I felt for him. He’d made certain I knew how he felt about me. Me, on the other hand, I’d ensure he had no idea how I truly felt.

The soft rapping of knuckles against the bathroom door forced my mind from my woes. Turning in time to see Nyota’s head peeking past the door, I noted the corners of her mouth pulling down into a frown.

“Are you intending to hide here all night?” she asked sheepishly, her eyes scanning my face. Relief flashed in her eyes as she slipped inside my makeshift sauna. “Rhys left the apartment if that’s what you are waiting on.”

He’d left the entire wing. I felt it in my chest. He’d needed to vacate the mansion as if Satan himself gave chase, right on his heels. Three little words I hadn’t meant to say had chased him out.

“I’m not hiding,” I muttered before tipping my head back, groaning.

A feminine snort forced my focus back to where she rocked back on her heels. Nyota wasn’t comfortable with emotions, not that I had expected her to be. She’d grown up with brothers, all of whom ensured she was one of them. They all treated her like a warrior, ensuring she wasn’t prone to hysterics or what they’d termed “feminine emotions”.

I’d grown up with siblings, all of whom were emotionally constipated. It ensured I knew how to manage both. Even if they hadn’t been there a lot, it had allowed me to know themwell enough. Sisters were easy. Don’t wear their favorite shoes, clothing, or touch their shit. Be a shoulder when needed, even though mine never needed that sort of thing. Ever. But brothers were easier for me. Stroke their ego, don’t point out weaknesses, and don’t comment on their female companions.

“The fuck you aren’t,” she snorted as she strode to the sink, hopping up beside me. “I don’t know why he reacted like he did. I can’t say I wouldn’t have reacted any better, though, if it were me.”

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