Page 50 of Claimed By the Damned

I shake my head, a futile gesture. "So yeah. I don’t deserve her." The words hang there, tasting like ash.

Ryker’s jaw tightens, his gaze burning into me. Before I can brace myself, he moves—closing the space between us. His hands grip my face, firm, surprisingly steady. I jerk back against the contact, every muscle tight.

"You think that’s your call to make?" His voice is rough with disbelief, but there’s understanding underneath—something I don't deserve. "You fucked up back then, yeah. Command fucked up. But you got me out. You didn’t leave me there." His words hit like blows. "None of us knew what we were walking into. The intel was shit. It was a setup from the start. You made the best calls you could with garbage intel."

My throat tightens. I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze. "That doesn’t change what happened to you."

"It wasn’t solely your fault," Ryker says, his voice softening slightly, pulling me further off balance. I force myself to look at him, searching for blame, finding only sincerity. "You carry that weight like it belongs only to you. It doesn’t. I made my own choices in that mess too. Yeah, I paid for it. But you brought me home and you helped me heal.That’swhat matters."

He presses his forehead against mine, an intimacy that makes me want to recoil, yet I’m frozen. Something passes between us—forgiveness I haven't earned, absolution my mind refuses— my breath catches.

"Stop punishing yourself, Bas," he mutters, the command quiet but absolute. "It’s done. Let it go. I forgive you"

Let it go.As if it’s that simple. Ryker lets go of me as Ethan leans forward, his voice quieter but just as firm.

"And you think stepping aside makes things right? That’s bullshit." I look away sharply, focusing on my abandoned glass. "Lila needsyou, Bastian, just as much as she needs us. Maybe more."

The mention of her name is a physical blow. I exhale harshly, dragging a hand down my face. "She doesn’t need a broken man."

Ryker lets out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Broken? Damn, Bastian, you don’t get it." He pulls back slightly but keeps his hands on my shoulders. "She’s been through hell. She’s scared,damaged, but strong as fucking nails underneath. And you—" he shakes his head, giving me a hard look that sees too much. "You ground her. She feels safe with you in a way she doesn’t with anyone else. You think she hasn’t already chosen you, in her own way? You’re blind if you can’t see it."

Ethan nods, his gaze steady. "You’re fighting so hard to push her away, but what if she needsyou—your control, your steadiness, the safety you represent—the same way you seem to need her light?"

I drag in a shaky breath. I want to argue, to cling to the familiar burden of guilt—but the words won’t form. A small, traitorous part of me wants desperately to believe them. Wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, redemption isn’t impossible. Thatsheisn't impossible.

Ethan breaks the heavy silence that follows, his gaze moving between Ryker and me, practical as ever. "Okay. So, if stepping aside isn't the answer... what is? Because Bas is right about one thing—thisisunprecedented. How does this work? With Lila?"

Ryker crosses his arms again, leaning back against the desk, considering Ethan’s question. His aggression seems banked for the moment, replaced by thoughtfulness. "Look, I’m not sharing her like she’s some fucking prize. But she’s... ours. All of ours. In different ways, maybe, but she connects to each of us. Denying that seems stupid." He glances at me. "And trying to cut one of us out? Even stupider. Especially you, Bas. You're the anchor, for all of us."

I process this, the concept foreign, unsettling, yet somewhat logical given the circumstances. Three protectors, three different connections to one woman who needs safety, needs grounding, needs... us. "It's unconventional," I state, the master of understatement.

"Understatement of the fucking year," Ryker mutters.

Ethan nods slowly. "Unconventional, yeah. Maybe impossible. But... maybe not. We can figure it out. Together. For her." He looks directly at me. "Ifyou'rein. No more talk about stepping aside."

Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m the only thing standing in my own way. The guilt is still there, a persistent burn, a shadow I’ll likely carry forever. But maybe... beneath the weight of it, a flicker of something else stirs. The idea of belonging—not just leading, butbelongingwith them, withher—is both terrifying and tempting. Maybe it doesn't have to consume everything.

I meet Ethan's gaze, then Ryker's. A silent agreement passes between us—not a solution, but a commitment. To her. To figuring it out. "Alright," I finally say, the single word feeling heavier than a vow. "We figure it out."

The rich scent of coffee cuts through the morning quiet. I lean against the counter, letting the heat from the mug seep into my cold hands. Ethan stands beside me, hair still mussed from the few hours of sleep we all got, sipping his own cup. The house is quiet.

Then, a sultry moan breaks the silence from down the hall, followed by a breathless gasp and the unmistakable thud of a headboard hitting the wall. Seconds later, comes a throaty laugh, deep and satisfied, followed by a string of curses from Ryker’s room.

Ethan raises his mug, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, that’s one way to wake up. Better than coffee."

I shake my head, a grin tugging at my lips despite myself. "Knowing Lila? Pretty sure she’d agree."

Ryker's room door swings open a few minutes later. Lila steps out, face flushed, hair a glorious mess. Ryker follows, looking far too smug, his arm slung possessively around her shoulders as they walk down the hall.

Ethan winks at her as they enter the kitchen. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Sounded like you had a hell of a night."

Lila groans, cheeks burning brighter as she playfully tries to shrug off Ryker's arm. "Kill me now."

Ryker just laughs, pulling her closer. "Nah, I think I’ll keep you around."

Before Ryker leans in to kiss her, Ethan smoothly intercepts, stepping forward. He cups Lila's face gently, tilting her chin up towards him. His eyes hold hers for a beat, a silent question answered by the slight softening in her expression. Then, he leans down and kisses her, right there in the middle of the kitchen, not a frantic claiming like Ryker's, but something possessive in its own right— deliberate, warm, and deeply affectionate.

Lila looks momentarily stunned when he pulls back, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted. A surprised blush creeps up her neck, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, her gaze flickers uncertainly between Ethan, Ryker (who's watching with an amused smirk), and me.

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