Page 106 of Claimed By the Damned

My pulse flutters. Marriage. The thought is both terrifying and exhilarating after everything.

“Ethan…” I whisper, unsure what to say.

He smiles, a genuine, heart-stopping smile. “Just think about it.” He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s gentle but full of promise, of unwavering love. It speaks volumes more than words. When he pulls back, his eyes are serious again. “I love you, Lila. More than I thought possible. No matter what happens, that doesn’t change.”

“I love you too, Ethan,” I manage, my voice thick with emotion. “So much.”

He holds me close, his good arm wrapped around me, my head resting against his shoulder. His gaze drops for a moment, softening further as it rests on my stomach where our child grows, a tangible symbol of everything we fought for. He pulls me a little tighter, a silent vow passing between us.

Outside, the sounds of the security team going through drills is a distant reminder of the world beyond these walls. But here, in this moment, there’s just peace. Healing. And the quiet, stunning promise of a future being built together, piece by fragile piece – a future for us, for our baby. Safe. Truly safe, at last.

Chapter 31: Claimed in Blood and Love

Lila

The world doesn’t snap back into place overnight. The echoes of Kolya’s mansion, the metallic scent of blood, the chilling grip of fear, they fade slowly, like the aftershocks of a violent storm, each tremor less intense than the last. But theyarefading, replaced by the steady rhythm of healing, of safety, ofus.

These first few weeks blur into a comforting routine, everything focusing on recovery. Ethan’s healing is a central part of our days, physiotherapy in the training room with Grim, careful monitoring of his concussion, the angry red line of the healing gash on his forehead a stark reminder, and his broken arm, his slow but steady progress a quiet victory for all of us. My nightmares loosen their hold gradually, chased away by the unwavering presence of Bastian, Ethan, or Ryker beside me, often all three, crowded together in the massive bed (that Bastian arranged) now that Ethan is mobile enough to join the cuddle pile without too much wincing.

Doctor appointments shift focus; mine become more frequent as the pregnancy progresses, each check-up and scan a milestone marking the baby's growth. I remember one ultrasound where all three men insist on attending, crowding the small room, their intense focus on the grainy screen both endearing and slightly terrifying. The doctor, trying to maintain professionalism, blinks several times when Bastian calmly explains that yes, the baby has three fathers actively involved, before pointedly returning her attention to the monitor.

Security around the house remains an impenetrable fortress, upgrades humming quietly in the background, a constant, silent promise that no one will ever get close again. The house itself settles around us, the previous tension easing into a lived-in comfort. At night, the wind howling off the Pacific sometimesrattles the heavy storm windows, a wild sound that feels less threatening now, more like the house itself breathing alongside us.

More than the physical healing, though, is the quiet knitting together of our lives. These weeks bring shared meals where laughter isn’t forced, movie nights tangled together on the oversized couch, my growing belly a comfortable shelf for a shared bowl of popcorn.

There are moments like Ethan patiently showing me advanced coding tricks on one of his many tablets, his fingers brushing mine as he guides my hand over the virtual keyboard. Or Ryker teaching me ridiculously impractical knife throws in the yard (much to Bastian’s feigned exasperation and Grim’s quiet, approving nods from the porch where he’s supposedly ‘on watch’). Or Bastian, whose voice drops to a low, soothing rumble as he reads financial reports aloud to the baby, one hand resting gently on my stomach, a ritual that started as a joke but quickly became a cherished routine.

They don’t push, don’t demand more than I can give, simplybeingthere, solid and constant. The fear of rejection I’d carried, the uncertainty about howweworked, dissolves in the face of their unwavering commitment, not just to me, but to the baby—ourbaby.

Somewhere along the way, amidst the quiet moments and fierce protectiveness, the house stops feeling like a fortress and starts feeling unequivocally like home. Now, with my belly round and prominent at six months—though Dr. Evans mentioned it's still on the smaller side, assuring us it's completely normal for my frame and the baby’s healthy development—a tangible symbol of the future we are building, they decide it’s time. Time for something just for us.

The private jet’s first-class leather seat cradles me in pure, sinful comfort, but my mind is spinning. My fingers press against the curve of my pregnant belly, a silent grounding point, while I glance between the three men around me. I shift in my seat, trying to find a position that doesn’t make my back ache. Ethan notices immediately, grabbing a pillow and tucking it behind me with a soft smile.

He’s sneaking me a chocolate truffle, his eyes dancing with mischief. "What Bastian doesn’t know won’t kill him," he whispers, shooting a glance toward the man in question, who is currently scanning over some papers like he isn't the sexiest distraction in existence.

Bastian barely lifts his gaze, but a muscle ticks in his jaw. "I know everything, Mercer."

Ryker lets out a bark of laughter from across the aisle, sprawled out like a king in his own seat, one boot propped on the armrest. "Yeah, but will you stop him? That’s the real question."

I pop the truffle into my mouth before Bastian can interject, a soft moan escaping me at the velvety taste of dark chocolate and caramel. Heat flushes my skin as Ryker’s eyes practically devour me; Ethan looks ridiculously smug. Bastian shakes his head, a sigh escaping him, but doesn't push it.

I glance out the window. Endless blue stretches beyond the horizon, the ocean shimmering like liquid sapphire under the golden sun. We’ve been in the air for hours, and though they keep dodging my questions,

I narrow my eyes at Ryker, who’s smirking. "Are you ever gonna tell me where we’re going, or do I have to guess?"

"Patience, Baby Girl," he drawls, stretching his arms behind his head. "It’s a virtue."

"Yeah? Well, I ran out of that about nine hours ago."

Ethan chuckles. Bastian folds his papers neatly before meeting my gaze. "You’ll find out soon enough."

The flight stretches on, with Ethan occasionally feeding me more chocolates, Ryker teasing me relentlessly, and Bastian watching me with that quiet, knowing gaze. Just as my patience truly wears thin, the plane begins its descent. As we break through the clouds, I gasp.

Below us, a vista unfurls that steals my breath. The Maldives. I know it instantly, the impossible turquoise of the water, so clear it seems lit from within, ivory-white beaches embracing lush green islands, and overwater villas fanning out over the sea.

"Oh my gosh," I breathe, my heart hammering. "This—this is the surprise?"

Ethan grins but doesn’t answer. Ryker winks. Bastian simply watches me, his gaze intent.

---