Page 3 of Claimed
She makes me weak, and no matter how many women I take, the need for her has not lessened. The yearning to hold her just once, to pleasure her with a wholeness I have never devoted to another …
But it will never be.
My little bird is happy. In love.
It’s just not with me.
I pull up outside the Lock Lake colony house and park my convertible in the guest parking lot. Every warrior is supposed to use the colony entrance, but the last time I was in the tunnel, Lilah was killed.
For a minute, the old pain washes over me until my breathing grows ragged and metal flavors my tongue. The fear and the pain is my punishment for not being able to protect her. To keep her safe. Human.
My burden suffocates me, pressing inward on my chest until I can’t breathe. Until darkness edges my vision.
Then I force it away, leaving my body cold, as I walk into the manor.
The new renovations are almost complete. The new security fence can more than attest to Markus’ every increasing paranoia where it comes to his pregnant consort. But since the manor has been breached twice since June, I no longer disagree with his incessant fretting. Not where Lilah is concerned.
I dip my head at the seasoned butler, Wilfred, and make my way up the stairs and down to the main doors between the colony house and the manor. Bulletproof steel—and enough tech to dull even my magick—separate both wings.
The guards stationed at the thick panels open them as I approach. But not before I catch the lip curling disgust on their faces.
The warriors dislike what I am. But I can’t be anything other than that. I am a demon. Even if I’m only a half-breed.
Slipping down the cool corridor, my eyes bypass the tapestries Markus insisted on hanging to break the monotony of the new space. But there is no hiding the security cameras on each end. Or the thick beams of steel supporting the sides.
You can decorate a mine shaft until you’re blue in the fucking face, but it’s still a mine shaft.
And this is more like a damned tomb.
At the end of the space, I key in my code and the door swishes to the side, opening up onto a second staircase leading down into the colony’s main room. Like a basin of repose, the space has an old world lodging feel with high timbers in the ceiling and quiet nooks for the teams to relax when there is a dull moment. Most of the chairs are empty, but the half bar nestled beside the steps is not.
I scour the familiar faces for the team but cannot find them present. Without making eye contact with any of the other assholes employed by Markus Alport, my king, I take the steps in a jaunty carefree stride. Moving through the room like I fucking own the place, I ease up the stairs and head deeper into the colony house.
The main hallway is illuminated by soft amber lighting. I bypass numerous suites and find Markus’ office door already open as familiar voices pour out.
I fix my expression, making sure my sinister mask of ‘don’t fuck with the demon’ is in place and lean into the doorjamb. “Did everyone miss me that much?” I taunt.
The team turns at the sound of my voice. Ruin Wade, my captain and Lilah’s vampire husband, lifts a brow. “Definitely didn’t miss your mouth,” he rumbles.
With his dark hair and even darker eyes, I once again try to figure out what he has that I don’t. What Lilah would see in him that she couldn’t find in me.
He is taller, as are many of the others. But we have the same midnight hair color. The same porcelain skin. We favor black clothing.
But for whatever reason, she picked him and I never stood a chance.
I smirk when I want to sneer. “Then why call me in, big boy?” I add a press of Sin behind my voice. The entire room shifts and the sudden spike in their natural fragrances makes my smile broaden.
“Caine, cut the voice shit, man,” Tanner Faust calls from where he leans against one bookshelf. His chestnut hair is a casual sweep over his silver eyes, and the frown on his face is a sure sign that his delectable better half returned home while I was gone. Which means he will be quite the grouchy cat.
I stalk into the room, rolling my hips like I was taught. A faint flush of color stains his tan neck.
For all his posturing, the cat has shared a bed with me. Albeit with his female writhing between us, but I have caressed the hardened muscle under his skin. Felt his breathing quicken as he neared release. Mores the pity he has no love of men.
“But, cat, I do so enjoy playing these games with you.”
Another flush and a one-finger salute. I cackle.
“Caine, there’s a reason we called you in,” Ruin says over my laughter. “And it isn’t so you can fuck with Tanner or for you to be a lecherous prick.”
