Page 105 of Claimed By the Damned

His body stills. Then his lips curl, and he nips gently at my shoulder. “Love me, huh?” he muses, pressing closer. “Fucking love you too, Baby Girl. More than anything.” He holds me tight, his body a solid shield. "Not lettinganyoneget near you or this baby ever again. You're ours to protect now."

His mouth finds mine, claiming, consuming, but even in his wildness, there's care. Worship. He kisses me like he's starved, like he’ll never let go. His body presses close, heat searing, but he doesn’t push for more.

Instead, he just holds me, murmuring against my skin. “Sleep,” he orders softly. “We’ve got you.”

Before I can drift off, the door creaks open wider. Bastian appears, moving without hesitation. He doesn’t join us in the bed—it's clearly too small, and Ryker’s territorial presence is unspoken but clear. Instead, he pulls a chair close, settling into it, a silent sentinel.

Down the hall, Theo remains with Ethan. Grim is somewhere unseen, likely reinforcing perimeter security at this new location.

The silence stretches, comfortable, protective. Ryker grumbles softly, adjusting his hold. "This bed is too damn small for this."

Bastian smirks faintly from the chair. "We'll get a bigger one."

I let out a sleepy sound, melting into Ryker's hold, Bastian's watchful presence a steady anchor nearby.

Bastian’s voice is a low rumble in the quiet room. "You asked how this works, Little One." He pauses, letting the silence emphasize the reality of their protection. "Like this. We figure itout. Together. All of us. You don't have to carry anything alone anymore."

Ryker tightens his grip almost imperceptibly. "You'll never be alone again."

Wrapped in their presence, their unwavering protection, I close my eyes, knowing—finally knowing—I am theirs, and they are mine. Safe. For now.

The next few days at the Mark Street safe house pass in a blur of hushed concern and meticulous medical care. Ethan remains stable, slowly improving. Once Dr. Evans declares him fit to move, we transfer back to our sanctuary.

Ten days after the ambush, sunlight streams into the main living area, a stark contrast to the chaos that feels like a lifetime ago. The house breathes easier now, the oppressive weight of imminent danger replaced by the quiet hum of recovery.

Ethan sits on the large sofa, pillows propped behind him. He moves stiffly, bandages still visible beneath his loose shirt, reminders of the ordeal he survived, but his color is better, the haunted look in his eyes softening.

He manages a small, genuine smile as I settle beside him, carefully avoiding jostling his injured side. Theo sits in the armchair opposite, scrolling through something on a tablet, a comfortable silence filling the space. He’s become a fixture here, slotting into the security rotations Grim oversees, his bond with Ethan visibly mending day by day.

Ethan reaches out, his uninjured hand covering mine. His touch is warm, familiar, grounding. “You’ve been quiet the last coupleof days, Angel,” he says softly, his ice-gray eyes searching mine. “Still blaming yourself for leaving?”

I know he means for leaving with Luke. We haven’t talked about the specifics, the sheer shock and relief of his survival overshadowing everything else initially. Now, in the quiet calm, the question hangs in the air. Theo looks up from his tablet, his expression shifting to quiet attention.

I take a deep breath, the shame still a faint echo. “He had a letter,” I explain, my voice low."But it… it sounded like it was from Theo. It mentioned things… things only Theo would know. Nicknames. Memories. It said he needed to see me before he went underground to get away from Kolya for good. Asked me to meet him behind the shop.”I look at Theo, whose jaw tightens slightly.“It seemed so real. I wanted… I needed to believe it was him. That he was okay.”

Theo leans forward slightly. “Kolya was a master at that,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “Finding leverage, twisting hope. He did it to Luke, using his debts to get him to do what he wanted. He would have known exactly what to put in that letter to get to you, Lila. He knew my history, my connection to you.” He meets my gaze, his own filled with a pained understanding. "He played on your loyalty, Lila. On your compassion. That letter wasn't a mistake you made; it was a carefully constructed trap laid by a monster who knew exactly which strings to pull. The fact that you hoped, that you wanted to believe in the good in someone, that's not a flaw. That's who you are."

Ethan squeezes my hand. “Exactly,” he says firmly, his gaze unwavering. “This wasn't you being foolish, Lila. This was Kolya being a manipulative bastard, preying on your hope and your loyalty to Theo. Luke betrayed us, betrayedyou, by delivering that lie. The only person to blame for you walking into that trap is Kolya, and maybe Luke for being weak enough to be used.” He lifts my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. “Youfell for a lie designed by a monster, tailored specifically to break through your defenses. That’s not on you. It's onhimfor being so vile as to exploit your goodness."

Relief, clean and bright, washes through me at their conviction, echoed by the profound understanding in Theo's eyes. It’s like a heavy weight I didn’t realize I was still carrying finally lifts. Their words don't just absolve me; they affirm the parts of me Kolya tried to destroy—my capacity for hope, for loyalty. I lean against Ethan, letting the truth of their words sink in, allowing myself, finally, to believe them.

Theo clears his throat, standing up. “Need to check in with Grim about the perimeter sweeps.” He pauses by Ethan’s side, clapping him gently on the good shoulder. “Glad you’re back among the living, brother.” He gives me a small, reassuring nod. “See you later, Lila.” Then he strides out, leaving Ethan and me enveloped in the quiet sunlight.

Ethan pulls me closer, careful of his ribs. “He’s good to have around,” he murmurs, watching Theo leave. He turns his attention back to me, his expression softening entirely. A soft chuckle escapes him, a sound that’s still a bit weak but he's genuinely amused. “You know, it’s still so damn crazy to me. Theo… of all people. The guard who helps you escape Kolya’s hell, risks everything… and that’s how you end up with us.” He shakes his head, a marveling look in his eyes. “If someone wrote that in a book, I’d say it was too unbelievable. But here we are.”

"Things are quieter now, Angel," Ethan continues, his tone growing more serious, conveying the weight of finality. "Intel confirms Kolya's entire operation fractured after you took him out. Total chaos, no structure left, just rats scrambling for scraps. He built an empire on fear, and without him, it crumbled overnight. Grim’s been coordinating with our contacts, and the word is out: there’s no one left with the power or inclination to come after us. No remaining lieutenants, no hidden cells." Wrypleasure flickers in his eyes. "Ryker and Grim made sure that any loose ends or potential retaliators from his inner circle are permanently retired. Unable to bother anyone, ever again. It's really over, Lila."

“I took a hit,” he continues, gesturing vaguely at his bandaged side, “but I’m still here. We’re all still here. Together.”

He pauses, letting that crucial information sink in, then adds with a touch of dark irony, "And for the final bit of truly insane news… you’re not going to believe this. Bastian’s people were digging into Kolya’s assets, and they found some... interesting legal paperwork. Apparently, years ago, probably right when his obsession with you was solidifying, he set up a will. And guess who the sole beneficiary is if he kicks the bucket?" Ethan raises an eyebrow, letting the question hang for a dramatic beat.

"You, Lila. Everything defaults to you. His businesses, accounts, the whole damn empire." He sees the shock on my face and quickly clarifies, "Now, Bas is convinced this wasn't some act of late-stage generosity, that’s not Kolya's MO. More like his ultimate possessive power play. His thinking was probably, ifhecouldn't have his empire, no rival was going to get their hands on it. By leaving it to his 'wife,' he figured he was keeping it 'in the family,' still tied to his name, his legacy, even from the grave. A final way to try and keep you chained to him, and a massive 'fuck you' to anyone who dared to take him down. The ultimate irony, of course, is that he never in a million years counted on you being the one to take him down."

Ethan shakes his head, a humourless smile playing on his lips. "So, yeah. Not that you need it," he adds quickly, gesturing around the luxurious house, "Bas has enough zeroes in his accounts to make Kolya look like small fry. But it's legally, irrevocably final. He lost everything. Toyou." The significance hangs in the air – the ultimate, twisted, and unexpected victory.

A comfortable silence settles between us. Ethan traces the line of my jaw with his thumb, his eyes holding a warmth that makes my own breath hitch in a different way.

“You know,” he says conversationally, a playful light entering his eyes despite the lingering pain lines around them, “all this recovery time gives a guy a lot of time to think.” He leans in a fraction closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Start thinking about the future. About making things… permanent.” He pauses, letting the implication hang. “You might even need to start picturing yourself in white, Angel.”

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