Page 97 of Claimed By the Damned

“They won’t take you from me again,” he growls, his voice ragged, unhinged. His chest rises and falls erratically. “You’re mine. You’re carrying my heir!”

The words slam into me, ice-cold dread creeping through my veins. His heir. I swallow against the bile rising in my throat. I want to scream, to tell him he’s delusional, but I don’t. I won’t waste my breath on a dead man.

Instead, I stay quiet, my mind whirling. He’s desperate. And desperate men make mistakes.

He steps closer, grabbing my arm so hard pain lances up to my shoulder. He’s squeezing too tight, his fingers digging into myflesh like he thinks he can physically hold me in place, make me stay.

Beyond the thick wooden door, I hear it—

A voice. A deep, vicious snarl, one I know in my bones.

Ryker.

A loud thud against the door. Then another. The wood groans under the force.

Kolya stiffens, his grip tightening, his breath ragged. He knows they’re coming for me.

He yanks me against his chest, his breath hot against my ear. “You’re mine,” he hisses. I can feel the tremor in his body, the way fear is seeping into him now, wrapping around him like a noose.

He’s going to use me. A shield. A final bargaining chip.

But he’s distracted. His focus is on the door, his gun raised toward it, not on me. The chaos outside, the thunder of Ryker’s approach, has shattered his composure. He’s unraveling, his attention fractured, his arrogance replaced by a primal fear. This is it. My chance. Fueled by a surge of adrenaline so potent it blanks out thought, and the fierce, undeniable instinct to protect the life inside me, to protect the men fighting their way to me, I move. He thinks I’m too afraid, too weak.

This is my chance.

The letter opener is in my hand before I even think. The one I slid from his desk earlier. Ryker's voice echoes in my head:Carotid artery. Quick. Fatal. No hesitation.Fueled by adrenaline, I move faster than Kolya expects. I twist fiercely in his grip, angling my body as his hold tightens reflexively.

With a choked sound ripped from my own throat, part battle cry, part desperate gasp, I don't hesitate. I drive the steel blade upward and inward, precisely where Ryker had shown me, into the vulnerable flesh of his neck. There’s a sickening give as metal meets flesh, and I twist my wrist hard, just as he taught me.

Kolya jerks violently, a strangled, inhuman sound tearing from his throat as his grip on my arm convulses. Ignoring the pain, I yank the blade free with a wet, tearing sound.

His eyes, wide with utter shock and disbelief, snap to mine. No anger, no fury, just stunned incomprehension as the blood erupts. Hot blood spurts and sprays viscous red across my face, my clothes, my hand, splattering his pristine white blotter and the ledgers scattered across his mahogany desk. The sudden, overwhelming coppery tang thickens the air, choking my senses.

He stumbles back, clawing at his neck, trying to speak, but only a wet, horrifying gurgle escapes his lips as blood bubbles and pours freely from the wound. He grips the edge of the desk, trying to stay upright, his legs shaking uncontrollably beneath him.

His eyes lock onto mine one last time, the shock curdling into a chillingly empty look of betrayal, as if utterly dumbfounded thatI, his possession, could do this.

A strangled sob of relief tears from me, a wave of exhaustion threatening to pull me under. But beneath it, a fierce triumph ignites. It's over.Finallyover. My hands tremble, not from fear, but from the release of years of captivity ending in one decisive moment. My breath is ragged, my heart hammering as I look down at the monster who thought he owned me.I am free. I did this. I took my power back.

I glance down at the gun he dropped in his struggle, my breath hitching. Without thinking, I kick it away, sending it skidding across the floor under the heavy drapes of the window. Just in case, I won’t take any chances—not with him. Not now.

Then, I step forward. My voice, when it comes, is steady, unwavering despite the storm inside me.

“You will never ever have me or hurtmybaby.”

Kolya collapses further. His body slums onto the floor, twitching once. Then he goes incredibly still.

Ryker

Heart hammering, ignoring knuckles stinging beneath Dimitri's blood, I turn to the locked door. “Found her,” I growl into the radio, my voice low, dangerous. “Kolya’s office."

I don’t wait for a reply. I step back, adrenaline surging, and kick. The door shudders. Again. The wood groans, splinters flying with the second impact. On the third kick, the lock gives way with a crack, the heavy door exploding inward.

I burst into the room, weapon raised, every sense screaming. My gaze snaps across the space, taking in the scene in a fraction of a second: Kolya sprawled motionless on the floor, a dark pool spreading rapidly beneath him.

And Lila.

Standing near his body, chest heaving, air tearing in and out of her lungs in harsh pants that slice through the ringing in my ears. She’s covered head-to-toe in blood. So much blood. Stark red soaking her clothes, coating her pale skin, dripping from the letter opener still clutched tight in her trembling hand. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated, reflecting the carnage around her, yet beneath the shock, there’s a spark, a terrifying, beautiful fire of survival.

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