Page 61 of Princess Claimed

In a flash, Phil arrives. He slams into the vampire so forcefully that Ana’s also pulled forward as the male is thrown onto his back. Ana lands on top of the gold-clad intruder.

My heart rises into my throat.

The male grabs her bare thighs, and rage builds inside me.

I leap down. Landing next to them, I plant one foot high on the fiend’s chest.

Freeing herself, Ana straightens her dress as she steps back from him, trying to tug the hem lower than the garment can physically go.

My eyes glance down to the male vampire under my foot. The asshole has his dick out. And he’s fully hard. His harness has a detachable codpiece, and somehow, he unsnapped it while Ana was on top of him. Or maybe the thing automatically releases when he’s stiff?

Did Ana notice? I’m beyond offended on her behalf.

Lifting my boot off his neck, I rush toward Ana to block her view. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Wow. What a jerk.” A smile rushes in to banish her shock. “But until that guy showed up, I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun. Your club is amazing.”

I can’t help but smile back at her. I desperately want to envelop her in my arms and never let go. But shouting distracts me, and I turn.

Phil is pummeling the vampire who tried to dance with Ana. Phil’s fists are on rapid fire and the shiny, gold jumpsuit is turning red.

“I need to stop this.”

Ana nods, and I reluctantly leave her side.

“Stop it. Phil,” I say. “That’s enough.”

The torrent of punches accelerates. I’ve never seen Phil so out of control. Not since he was a boy, but back then he couldn’t do a tenth of this damage. Phil’s never forgiven himself for what he did, even after the master praised him for killing that boy.

Phil won’t kill this guy. This asshole will heal, but Phil’s turning him into hamburger.

“Phil!” I grab his upper arm, but he shoves me off, and I land about fifteen feet back.

Ana rushes past me. Fuck.

Leaping up, I grab her around the waist, keeping her out of range of Phil’s backswings.

“Let me talk to him.” She struggles in my arms. “Please.”

She escapes my hold, before I can even weigh the pros and cons.

Who am I kidding. Ana doesn’t need my permission.

She rushes over and places herself where Phil might be able to see her, if he ever to looks up from the body he’s smashing.

“Phil,” she says so softly I can barely hear her, even though I’m fully tuned to her voice.

Pausing mid-punch, Phil looks up.

Jumping over, I stand nearby, ready to step in to protect her if needed—even if the one she needs protection from is Phil.

Shaking her head, Ana looks at Phil with so much intensity her compassion tightens my chest.

“I’m fine,” she says to Phil. “This guy’s a jerk, but he didn’t hurt me. And you don’t want to hurt him.”

Phil looks down toward the man he’s attacking, and then at his own bloodied fists.

A look of anguish washes off Phil’s intense anger. As if he just woke from a trance, Phil leaps off the man and disappears into the relative darkness of the club. Ana races behind him.

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