Page 41 of Claimed By the Damned
She hesitates, just for a second, before stepping toward me.
I open my mouth to ask about the box, but she cuts me off, shaking her head slightly. "Don’t—don’t ask. I can’t—"
I swallow the question, forcing myself to let it go. Instead, I reach for her hand, grounding her the only way I know how.
The heat in my chest flares hotter with anger. I force myself to soften my approach, reaching for her. "Come on, Baby Girl. Let’s go home." She doesn't answer, only nods, her fingers twitching against the box.
I don't ask—I just take it from her. My large hand closes around her arm, guiding her to the SUV. In my other hand, I carry the small package. I help her into the car, making sure she’s settled before slamming the door shut. Turning to Bastian, my voice is a low growl. "Get us home. Now."
Back at the house, everyone settles into the lounge room, but the tension thickens the air like an oncoming storm.
Ethan hovers near Lila, his expression tight with worry. "Angel, what the hell happened?"
She looks down, shaking her head, unable to meet anyone's eyes.
Bastian exhales sharply, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Lila, we need to know who sent it."
When she remains silent, visibly trembling, he reaches for the package I placed on the coffee table. He rips it open without ceremony. Inside, nestled beside a small, velvet box, is a folded piece of expensive-looking cardstock.
His brows furrow as he first flips open the velvet box, revealing the delicate silver bracelet shaped like an infinity symbol. His jaw tightens. "What the fuck is this?"
Silence. Lila flinches at his harsh tone.
Bastian sets the box down and picks up the note, unfolding it. His eyes scan the elegant script, his expression darkening with every word. He reads it aloud, his voice dangerously low and clipped:
My Pet,
Did you think slipping away in the dead of night would be enough? That I wouldn’t notice? or that I wouldn’t follow?
You left something behind. I thought you might want it back. A reminder of where you belong and who you belong to.
Did you truly believe I wouldn’t find you? That you wouldn’t feel me breathing down your neck, watching, waiting?
You know better.
You always have.
See you soon, wife.
Kolya.
The name hangs heavy in the air, thick and suffocating.
Ethan’s blood seems to run cold. "Kolya?" he repeats, his voice dangerously quiet, sharp eyes flicking from the note in Bastian’s hand to Lila's terrified face. He knows that name—Mikhailov'smoniker. The pieces slam together with horrifying speed and sickening clarity. "He signed itKolya?" His gaze zeros in on Lila, the word forced out like a shard of glass. "Wife?"
Lila recoils as if struck, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. A choked sound escapes her lips, and she shakes her head violently, eyes squeezed shut. Pure terror radiates off her inwaves, amplified now, raw and exposed under Ethan's horrified question.
Seeing her reaction, seeing the word 'wife' hanging poisonously in the air, seeinghisname, the one Nikolai Mikhailov clearly preferred when he was beingKolya, on paper, confirming he’s still reaching for her.... something snaps inside me.
Fuck this. I can’t watch her like this—scared, small, like she’s still trapped under some bastard’s thumb.
Impulse takes over.
I cross the room in three strides, scoop her up, and carry her toward my bedroom. Four walls. One door. Contained. She gasps, gripping my shoulders. "Ryker!"
"You’re shaking," I growl, kicking the door shut behind us with my heel. The lock clicks into place. Solid. Secure. No way out unless I want it. I set her down gently, turning her to face me. Just as I do, there’s a sharp rap on the door.
"Ryker?" Bastian’s voice is low but firm through the wood. "Keep your head. We need answers."
