Page 103 of Claimed By the Damned
Looking at myself in the mirror, the reflection looking back at me is a stranger. Hollow eyes. Skin marred with bruises and a splash of Kolya's blood. Evidence of everything I survived, and everything that nearly cost Ethan his life.
He kneels beside the tub. “You’re safe now, Lila. You hear me?”
I nod, but the guilt claws at me. “He got hurt because of me, Bas,” I whisper, the words choked. “If you hadn’t come for me—”
“Stop.” His voice is abrupt, cutting off the thought before it can fully form. He cups my face, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. “That is not your fault. That blame lies solely with the bastards who set that ambush. Do you understand me? This isn’t on you. And they are all dead now. We are alive—hurt, but alive.” He dips a cloth into the water, running it gently over my shoulder. “You survived. You fought back. That’s all that matters.”
“You scared the hell out of us,” he admits, voice rough. “Losing you… then almost losing Ethan… I’ve never been that fucking terrified.”
I swallow hard. “I know, I thought I was going to die at the hands of Kolya. Then I thoughtEthanwas going to die.”
His hand tightens, jaw clenching. “He didn’t. You didn’t. You both fought. You both survived.”
Survived.But the cost feels steeper now.
Tears burn my eyes. “Bastian… I love you. I love all of you. But I don’t know how this works. I don’t know how to be enough for all of you. Or if you all want me, together as a unit. But I don’t think I could choose just one of you.”
He frames my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “You don’t have to know, you don't have to choose, Little One. You just have to trust us.Ilove you too, Lila. And I know the others feel the same. We’re not going anywhere. This isn’t about choosing—it’s about us being together. You are enough, just as you are.”
"And this baby..." he adds, his voice softening further, gaze dropping briefly to my stomach before meeting my eyes againwith fierce conviction, "this baby isours, Little One. Proof of us. Not a complication, not a burden.Ours. Something good that comes after the fight."
I want desperately to believe him.
When the water cools, he helps me stand, wrapping a towel around me, rubbing my skin dry with slow, methodical strokes. The sheer care in his touch is overwhelming, a stark contrast to Kolya's brutality, a physical manifestation of the safety he promises. It’s more than just drying skin; it’s like he’s trying to rub away the lingering chill of the trauma, to replace it with his warmth.
“Come lie down,” he says, guiding me toward the bedroom.
He lays me down gently on my stomach, his hands pressing into my muscles, working out the tension, the leftover fear. His fingers dig into the knots in my shoulders, along my spine, coaxing soft sighs from my lips. His touch isn't just about easing physical aches; it’s a grounding force, a silent reassurance that he's here, that the world isn't about to crumble again.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. “Relax, Little One, now roll over for me."
I roll over and his lips follow the path of his hands, heat curls low in my belly. His kisses trail lower, deliberate, his breath hot against my skin as he parts my thighs. It’s overwhelming, dizzying after the terror and guilt, but I cling to the sensation, needing the grounding heat of his mouth, the tangible proof that I am alive, safe, andwanted. This intimacy, so raw and reverent, feels like a claiming, not of possession, but of shared survival, of his devotion woven into every touch.
I barely have the strength to lift my head, but the second his mouth meets my core, my fingers tangle in the sheets, a strangled cry escaping me.
Bastian groans against me. "Let go, Little One," he murmurs, his voice thick. His tongue traces slow, teasing circles directlyover my clit, making me squirm against his mouth. His strong hands grip my hips, tilting me just so, while his thumbs find my entrance, gently but firmly parting my folds, stroking me with devastating precision. Every stroke sends fire through my veins. When he slides a finger inside, curling just right, my back arches, my breath catching. He pushes me higher, tongue relentless, coaxing me toward the edge.
"Bastian," I gasp, fingers gripping his hair. He hums, adding another finger, stretching me, building the pressure until I shatter, pleasure crashing through me in waves so intense I cry out.
A soft knock interrupts the aftermath.
“Doc’s done with Ethan for now,” Ryker calls quietly from the hallway. “Needs to check on you and the tadpole, Baby Girl.” His usual upbeat tone is absent, the worry in his voice clear.
Bastian doesn’t move away immediately, his tongue slowing, easing me down gently. His hands smooth over my thighs in lazy, reverent strokes. He presses a final kiss against my inner thigh before pulling the blankets over me.
“We’ve got you, Little One,” he promises. “Always.”
And for the first time tonight, the weight of the guilt lessens, replaced by a fragile tendril of belief.
The doctor is brought back to the room since I’m already settled. His examination is quick but thorough. Clinical touches still make me flinch involuntarily, born of trauma, but his news is a balm to my weary soul.
"Physically, you're healing well from your injuries," Dr. Evans says kindly. "The baby's heartbeat is strong. Stress is high,naturally, but no immediate concerns. Just rest. Take it extremely easy."
Relief hits me again. I nod, murmuring thanks. As the doctor leaves, Bastian helps me settle back against the pillows. He steps out for a moment, returning with water and the pain relievers the doctor left.
He sits on the edge of the bed, watching me, his gaze searching mine. "Ryker and Grim are setting up watch rotations until the rest of our primary security team arrives and we can fully secure this location," he informs me quietly. "Theo's sitting with Ethan." He pauses, his expression softening slightly at the mention of the brothers. "You need anything else?"
My throat tightens. Seeing the aftermath of the explosion, knowing Ethan was inside… the relief that he's alive is still warring with the image of him being pulled from the wreckage. "Bas," I whisper, my voice trembling slightly. "Can I… can I see him? Just for a minute?"
