Page 72 of Claimed By the Damned

Her eyes fluttered open, and she squinted as the fluorescent lights nearly blinded her. It took a moment, but she was able to adjust to the light and clear her vision. When it did, when she could see properly, she tipped her head to the side and saw the angry face of her father standing over her. For a second, she was confused, but then clarity took over. There was no way he was the one who got her out. By his expression, he wasn’t her savior.

She blinked, wondering why he was here if he didn’t get her out of the fire.

“Dad?” she croaked. It hurt too much to talk, so that was all she could manage.

He placed a hand on her shoulder with a smile. This confused her further until that smile turned evil and his hand moved to her neck to squeeze. Her eyes widened as he leaned down to her ear and whispered, “What a shame that I find you still alive.”

Her heart slammed against her chest as his words solidified her suspicion that he had been the one who set the fire to her shop. The knowledge of the fact that he really did try to kill her hit her like a ton of bricks.

“Why?” she gasped.

There were so many meanings behind that one question. Why did he try to kill her? Why was he doing this? Why didn’t he love her? And why couldn’t he just let her go?

“Someone had to be made an example to show what happens when you disobey me. I’m the fucking alpha. Me. As soon as you ran off with your mutts, the others began to follow your lead. Now, they only listen when they choose to. I can’t have that, now, can I? With your death, they’ll all fall back into line.”

It was hard to say it through the pain, but she said, “Maybe if you weren’t such a dick, the pack would be more inclined to listen to you.”

She wasn’t sure where the sudden courage came from, but she was sick of her father and his power-hungry tendencies. That was all he cared about – being in charge. He didn’t give a damn about her or anyone else. “My only regret is that I didn’t tell you to kiss my ass sooner, you piece of shit.”

“Power is in brute force, Amara. Kind and gentle souls like yourself are a weakness. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re wrong,” she replied, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Power is in love. In family. Power is in trust and honesty. That’s why you are losing control of your pack and why you lost control over me. All because we don’t trust you.”

“I don’t need your trust,” he snarled, squeezing her neck a little. “I need your obedience. So you have a choice, Amara. One. Last. Choice. You come home and admit your wrong-doings, or you and your mutts die. I don’t care if I have to do it myself this time.” He pushed her back into the pillow and then let go of her. He strode toward the door with confidence and left in the same manner.

She let out a shaky breath, her whole body trembling. She had never stood up to her father like that before, but she was glad she did. And she meant what she said. She was done with him, and she wasn’t going to listen to his threats anymore. There was nothing he could do. The guys would protect her against anything her father threw at them, and she was never going back to her old ways, her old life.

As her mind reeled on this, she didn’t hear approaching footsteps to her room, but as soon as her mates walked in, she smiled at them. They looked exhausted and were covered in soot. In their hands, they carried snacks from a vending machine, but their food was all forgotten when they saw her awake.

She smiled wider as they rushed to her side.

“Princesa,” Zeke murmured, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I tried to breathe in fire,” she admitted hoarsely. “But I’m alive. I’m guessing that’s because of you three?”

They nodded together, and then Drake said with a squeeze to her knee, “I’ll go get the doctor.” He left the room hurriedly.

She frowned at his rapid departure. “Do I stink or something?” she tried to joke.

Zeke laughed. “We all do.” His face turned somber and he sighed. “He’s just terrified. I think it’s hard for him to see you like this when he was the last one who left you alone.”

She exhaled softly and rested her head back on the pillow. While Zeke was speaking for Drake, she could see it on their faces that they all felt the same. “This isn’t your fault, guys. You guys can’t be with me all the time.”

“Like hell we can’t,” Knox grunted.

“Did you see anyone before the fire started?” Zeke asked, changing the subject before Knox could get out of hand with protective mode.

She shook her head. “No. I was in the bathroom. I just heard the window break, and then the smoke alarms went off.” She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, her mind going back to the flames that licked every surface. “How bad is the damage? Were they able to save anything?”

When they said nothing, she opened her eyes again. Knox’s jaw was flexing, but Zeke gave her a sad smile. “Unfortunately not. By the time the firemen arrived, it was too late to save most of the building.”

She swallowed with difficulty as the words stung, but she had expected that. The fire had been out of control before she passed out, but the shop was the only thing she had left of her mother, and now she didn’t even have that anymore. However, she didn’t get the chance to dwell on that fact before the doctor came into the room, followed closely by Drake.

She held out her hand for Drake, and thankfully, he came right to her. To reassure him, she took his hand and squeezed. “I’m okay,” she whispered to him. Then, she turned to the doctor. “Right?”

The doctor smiled at her and nodded. “Apart from some minor smoke inhalation and mild burns on your arm, you are fine. You are lucky these guys got to you when they did, though. It could have been a lot worse.”

“See?” she said to Drake. “No need to worry.”

---