Page 9 of Claimed By the Damned

He just throws his head back and laughs, the sound echoing slightly in the tense room. "Like I said," he grins, completely ignoring my protest, "setting the rules."

I clamp my jaw shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction of rising to the bait again, turning my attention back to the other two. "Not rules," I repeat, voice tight. "Just facts."

Ethan leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, no one’s saying we’re kicking you out in the middle of the night. But you don’t get to make demands, either. You landed here, whether you meant to or not. That means we decide what happens next."

"And what?" I snap. "You’re keeping me hostage now?"

Bastian, silent until now, finally speaks, his voice clipped. "Hostage? No. But we don’t let strays walk in and out of here without knowing exactly who they are and what danger they bring with them. Make no mistake," his gaze hardens, "if whoever you're running from finds you here, you put a target on all of us."

"I don’t bring danger," my voice is tight, lower now. "I left it behind. He won't find me."

Ryker tilts his head, a flicker of dangerous curiosity in his eyes. "He?" he drawls, like he’s just picked up a crucial thread. "Ah, now we’re getting somewhere."

I grit my teeth, immediately regretting the slip. "It’s none of your business."

"Wrong," Bastian cuts in, stepping forward slightly, his presence commanding, immovable. "Everything that happens under this roofismy business. Especially when it involves a potential threat." His stare pins me. "And right now, whether you admit it or not,youare a potential threat."

The weight of their scrutiny is suffocating. For a second, I consider turning and locking myself back in the room, but I stand my ground.

"Who are you running from, Lila?" Ethan asks again, his voice softer, coaxing.

My chest tightens. I shake my head. "It doesn’t matter."

"It matters tous," Bastian says flatly. He studies me for a long moment, then lets out a slow, deliberate exhale. "Fine. You want time? You get one week."

My head snaps up. One week. The words hang there.

"One week," I echo, defiance tasting bitter on my tongue. "That’s all. And then I’m gone."

Panic, cold and sharp, claws its way up my throat.One week.Seven days. An eternity and no time at all. A countdown timer strapped to my chest, ticking down until… what? Until they toss me out? Kolya finds me? I have to run again, with nowhere to go? My hands clench into fists at my sides, knuckles white, nails biting into my palms. I force the fear down, shoving it deep alongside the exhaustion, the aches.

Ryker watches my reaction, a small chuckle rumbling in his chest. "We’ll see about that, Baby Girl."

But Ethan frowns, glancing sharply at Bastian. "A week? That’s it?" His voice is tight with frustration. "She can barely walk,Bastian. Expecting her to be ready to leave in seven days is bullshit."

Bastian’s gaze flicks to Ethan, then back to me, cold and assessing. "She thinks she can dictate terms. She thinks she can just walk out of here whenshedecides." His eyes lock onto mine, hard and unyielding. "Let's be clear, Lila. That 'one week' isn't your deadline to leave. It's your deadline to cooperate. It means you stay put, right here, underourrules, untilwesay otherwise. You prove you're not going to bring hell down on our heads. Get it?"

The correction slams into me. Not an eviction notice, but a leash. A different kind of cage. The panic shifts, souring into resentment. Trapped. Controlled again.

Ethan’s lips press into a thin line, but he doesn't argue further with Bastian's decree. He just looks at me with something like frustration, maybe pity.

Ryker just snorts, tilting his head back against the couch, watching the show. "This should be interesting."

I glare at Bastian, the words "under our rules" echoing in my head. I should be grateful for the roof, for the time. But the sensation of being controlled, of someoneelsesetting the boundaries of my lifeagain... makes my blood run cold.

But for now? I have no leverage. I swallow the anger, forcing a tight nod I don't feel.

I’ll play along.

One week. Seven days. Not freedom. A countdown to prove myself, apparently. Or maybe just a countdown until I find a way out on myownterms.

This isn’t a safe haven. It’s a waiting room, and they're the gatekeepers. The second I can stand on my own, rules or no rules, I’m walking out that door.

Chapter 5: The Devil's Frustration

Kolya

A slow poison seeps through me. Not shock—not fury—just a quiet, pervasive certainty: Lila is gone.

---