Page 8 of King's Claim
He’d known the Serpents wouldn’t let it go.The Pit Stop was easy prey for them.An unprotected bar, an absent owner, a stubborn bartender too proud to back down.
Lena.He told himself he was angry because she was his responsibility now, because she was under the Devil’s Crown’s protection and any strike against her was a strike at his club.That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.
The whole truth was that when he pictured her with her chin high, eyes blazing at him like he wasn’t a man to fear, something inside him tightened.He wanted her, wanted her in a way that had nothing to do with protection and everything to do with possession.
By the time he pulled up to The Pit Stop, the decision was already made.
Viper leaned against his bike outside, a cigarette burning low between his fingers.He nodded when King approached.
“Quiet now.They passed twice and kept going.Haven’t seen them since,” Viper reported.
“They’ll be back,” King said.
He didn’t glance at Viper again, just pushed open the bar’s battered door and stepped inside.
Lena was there, of course.She was wiping down the counter with quick, angry strokes, like if she scrubbed hard enough she could erase the damage from the night before.Her shoulders looked stiff, her movements sharp.
When she looked up and saw him, her mouth pressed into a thin line.
“You again,” Lena grumbled.
King shut the door behind him, the sound heavy in the silence.“Me again,” he agreed.
“I don’t remember asking for company.”
He stepped closer, the weight of his presence filling the space.“You didn’t.But you got snakes circling, and I don’t leave loose ends,” King told her.
Her eyes narrowed.“So I’m a loose end now?”
“You’re under my protection,” King said simply.“That means you don’t get to stand here waiting for them to come back and finish what they started.”
“I can handle myself,” she snapped, tossing the rag down on the counter.
King almost smiled.Almost.Christ, she was fire.“You think that, but you don’t know the Serpents like I do.They don’t quit.They’ll circle until they smell blood, and then they’ll take everything,” he said.
Her chin lifted.“So, what, I’m supposed to just hide?Run home like a scared little girl?”Lena demanded.
“No,” King said.
He took another step closer, close enough now to catch the faint scent of her.Soap and coffee and something sweeter underneath.“You’re coming with me,” he said.
She blinked.“Excuse me?”
“You’re not safe here.Not at the bar, not at your place.They’ll find you.My compound’s locked down, secure.They won’t touch you there.”
Her laugh was sharp, disbelieving.“Oh, right.Because trading one prison for another sounds like such a great idea.”
King’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t rise to the bait.Instead, he leaned one hand on the counter, lowering his voice until it was a rumble that brushed against her skin.
“You think I’m your prison, sweetheart?I’m the only thing standing between you and the kind of hell you don’t walk away from,” he told her.
She froze, her breath hitching, though she tried to hide it.The flush creeping up her neck, the quick flutter of her pulse, King caught every detail.It definitely lit something dangerous in him.
“You don’t scare me,” she whispered, though her voice wasn’t as steady as she wanted it to be.
King curved his mouth upwards, slow and wolfish.“That’s the problem.You should be.”
The air between them crackled, hot and taut.For a second, neither moved.King’s hand twitched, the urge to touch her burning through his control.
