Page 18 of The Fate of Black Hearts

Willem, well trained after years of fighting magical creatures, caught Efrem in the face with his free fist so hard that it sent him crashing across the room. He lay still.

Don’t be dead. Please, get up.

Efrem didn’t stir.

“Efrem!” She thrashed to get free. A kick at Willem’s leg didn’t budge his grip on her.

Willem yanked the door open and threw her. Down the steps she fell into the snow-covered garden path. The landing was hard, but she’d protected the newborn. Her own baby kicked hard in complaint.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, lit by a waning moon, she counted the torches held by approaching humans. At least twenty with various weapons chanted variations of “Death to the werewolf.”

The door above her didn’t reopen. The clunk of the bolt sliding into place jolted her upright. Roman screamed for her on the other side in a desperate tone that twisted her chest in pain.

Willem wanted her to cave. He longed for her to cast herself on his mercy and scream for help. The locks of the house’s inner metal shutters clicked on multiple windows as the domestics secured the lower floor from attack.

The baby seemed to see her with his pale-blue eyes for a moment before slamming them shut again.

A large falcon-like bird sat on a nearby tree. No time to evaluate its familiarity.

Men rushed at her, screaming.

One-handed, she slashed with the small dagger she always kept on her. Someone sliced the arm she used to hold the baby. She tucked the baby tighter into her body. Another stabbed her left shoulder.

Maybe she could mesmerize them with her voice. That hadn’t worked in a long time…not since before she got mated. Putting as much suggestion into her voice as possible she said, “Leave me alone.”

Three lunged at once as if they hadn’t even heard her. The skill still didn’t work for whatever reason. She’d begun to wonder if Willem had placed a spell to bind her abilities when they mated.

Either she would die, or all these humans would. Dropping her glamour and transforming into her feral form would make her stronger. But it was forbidden to turn in front of humans.

Turn or die.

She morphed to her feral form, which was more muscular, with sharp claws and teeth. The bones of her corset stretched and dug into her ribs. With super speed she took down two of the humans. One stabbed her back.

I could use a bigger blade.

“Use this.”

She dropped her dagger to catch the broadsword the mage she’d rescued long ago tossed at her.

“Where did you come from?” she called out.

He motioned for her to fight.

How she wished to stop time so she could stare at Dom. He stood dressed in black with a variety of weapons attached to his body. There was a new scar across his upper lip. She hadn’t seen him since they sat on the bench together in Paris, a moment she resented. He could’ve encouraged her to change her fate by not mating Willem.

“Are you going to help me?”

“This is your fight. Not mine.” He crossed his muscular arms.

“Still an asshole.” Irritation bristled up her spine. The heavy sword required two hands to properly balance. Impossible to do while holding a baby. She took on the two humans coming at her while swinging with one hand but called out, “Stop staring like a creep and help.”

“I’m sinister or frightening. Perhaps I’m disturbing, but I am not creepy.” His offended tone came to her, crisp and clear in his accented voice despite the chaos around them. He made no move to assist her.

“Be useful.” She shoved the baby into his arms. With two hands, she could wield the broad blade better. Not well, however, since she hadn’t swung something like this in thirty years. A human aimed a rifle at her. In a blur of screams, mostly from her, she annihilated the almost-shooter. She whirled, ready for a new attack.

“On your other side,” Dom said in a bored voice. “Poor form. You wounded him and got nicked in the arm. Move faster.” When she swung and missed, he yelled, “Stop toying with him. Kill him.”

A solid swing ended her attacker. She sent Dom a smug smile, but he didn’t look impressed.