Page 47 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Fifteen

Saffie

Slit had been going to rape me.

I’d tried to tell him I was Duke’s, but he didn’t give a damn. Seemed like Duke was already making good on his threat to let all his men have me. Duke would have been bad enough, but at least I knew his ways and what he wanted from me.

In the past, Duke had shared me, but he’d always been there watching them defile me as though it satisfied some deviant kick of his. But this is new. Just sending one of his brothers to my room means he’s treating me like nothing more than a whore.

It’s going to be worse than before.

I’d rather be dead.

Maybe I’d have just given in, let Slit have his way and taken the route of self-preservation if it hadn’t been for the feeling I’ve nothing more to lose, that there wasn’t much of me that wanted to go on living. Niran’s betrayal had been the final straw.

Instead of complying as he’d expected, I’d chosen the route of standing up to him, hoping if I provoked the burly sergeant-at-arms, he would lose his temper and mercifully end this life that now offers me nothing.

First, I’d tried to evade him, dodging out of his reach, but in the small room there was nowhere to go. With no lock on the bathroom door, it was useless trying to hide in there. I ducked and dived, managing to get under his outstretched hand, but his other had reached out and reeled me in. With one hand cruelly twisted into my hair, he’d ripped my clothes. I knew there was no point appealing to the better nature he didn’t possess.

He punched me, making my eye swell all over again.

Scared, knowing I’d lose in a straight fight, with the one eye I still could see out of, I spied something I could use. Twisting my head and throwing my body, ignoring the pain as I lost a chunk of my hair, I’d fallen, but had gotten my hand on the plate still covered with food I couldn’t face eating. My hand had grasped it almost without my brain issuing an instruction, and I’d thrown it straight at his head.

I’d surprised him. He hadn’t time to raise a hand to deflect my improvised missile, and it scored a direct hit on his face. Enraged, he’d launched himself at me.

This was it. The end.

Go ahead, kill me, I’d silently challenged.

Time seemed to stand still in those moments. Him poised, one fist raised, the other trying to wipe the congealed mess from his eyes. I took pleasure in seeing blood on his face.

God had deserted me despite all my prayers for a healthy child. There was no point pleading with him now. But I sent up my wish anyway. Just make it fast.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door opening. When I recognised Niran, my heart broke once more, knowing he was entering to support Slit, and not to rescue me.

Seconds passed like hours. Slit’s eyes narrowed and focused on me. His fist drew back… Simultaneously, his movements blurring so fast in comparison, Niran launched himself, picked up a shard of broken plate, and had it in Slit’s neck before his arm could complete its swing.

He wasn’t dead, but he soon would be. Ignoring him, I stared wide-eyed at Niran, not knowing what to believe.

Niran had saved me.

Niran had betrayed me.

I didn’t, couldn’t, trust him.

But the words that he’d said didn’t gel with the fact Slit was right now dying by his hand with one last gurgle and one final twitch.

If the colour of Niran’s skin hadn’t already been a death sentence for him, killing the Crazy Wolves’ sergeant-at-arms had made that a certainty.

What did I do now?

I hated Niran. But even with my poor instincts, I couldn’t reconcile the image of Niran as a betrayer with the man who’d killed to protect me.

What could I do when he held out his hand?

Stay here with Slit’s body? Put the blame where it belongs? But then I’d be Duke’s plaything again.

Take the chance of escape? Take the risk Niran hadn’t meant one single word that he’d said?

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