Page 77 of Claimed By the Damned

While the guys continued to bicker behind her, Amara just stared at her father. She had always loved him, but that love had never been returned. He had always treated her like crap, like she was less than, and he made her feel worthless and weak. Only when she found the guys did she start to believe otherwise, and now, standing before him, she felt anything but weak. She felt powerful.

Her father would always be a threat as long as he was alive, and it wasn’t just her life in danger anymore. She had her mates to think about, her children. Now, she had a life that she would do anything to protect.

It was as if, in those moments, everything finally came together, and her mind was made up. She knew what she had to do.

Without a word, Amara took the lighter Knox was twirling between his fingers out of his hand. He must have pulled it out at some point, she didn’t know. Then, with the lighter in her palm, she moved toward her father.

Her mates fell quiet as they watched her, waiting to see what she would do next. She flicked the lighter and lit it, watching the flame for a few moments. She had never had the urge to kill someone before, but now it was all she could think about. She had to protect them. She had to protect her children. The phrases repeated in her mind over and over again, drowning out everything else.

Someone approached her side and brushed a hand against her elbow. “I can do it, Princesa,” Zeke told her gently, holding his hand out for the lighter.

“No,” she said firmly, shaking her head and clutching the lighter tighter. “I want to do it. It has to be me. He’s put me through hell long enough.”

Knox approached her other side, nipping at her earlobe. “Do it, little bunny,” he whispered. “Make the fucker pay for what he did to you.”

“We’re right here,” Drake added from behind her, his hands brushing her hips.

With the guys by her side, she had everything she needed. She would never need anything else as long as she lived.

Amara met her father’s gaze as she flicked the lighter again. His eyes widened in both surprise and fear, but she didn’t say a single word as she tossed the lighter at his feet.

The flames climbed quickly until he was fully engulfed. From where she stood, she could hear his muffled cries over the roaring fire, and the stench of burning hair and flesh stung her nose. She had to resist the urge to gag.

The four of them watched in silence as her father burned. It seemed fitting since he had tried to burn her earlier that evening, and she figured that was what Knox was going for. She had thought that she might have felt a twinge of sadness or regret, but she didn’t feel anything other than relief. Knowing that Brad could never hurt her, her mates, or her children ever again was like a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders.

Amara watched her father burn until the flames completely disappeared and only smoke rose from the char of his skin. Only then did she look away and back at her guys.

“What do we do with the body?” she asked.

She had never done this before. She never had to get rid of a body. It should make her feel something vile, but it didn’t. That was how she knew that she made the right choice.

“Knox and Zeke will take care of it,” Drake replied, taking her hand. “We should get you back inside to rest.”

Amara assumed she was a bit in shock as she allowed Drake to pull her back toward the bar without a fight. Just before they went inside, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Knox pull a large duffel bag out from beside the dumpster while Zeke began removing the chains from her father’s corpse. She didn’t get to see what they did next as Drake took her inside and back up the stairs to the apartment.

Both of them were quiet as he led her into his room. It all seemed so unreal. She had spent her whole life looking over her shoulder, afraid her father was going to be there, and she wasn’t sure what to do now that he was no longer a threat. It didn’t seem to faze her that she had just killed someone either.

Drake sat her on the bed before he went to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. He handed her the glass as he sat next to her.

“Are you going to tell my old pack that he’s dead?” she asked, surprised that her voice didn’t break at all.

“If you want me to.”

Amara shook her head. “The news would be better if it came from me.”

Drake slowly nodded in understanding. “Think they’ll be upset?”

“No,” she replied truthfully. “I think they’ll feel free. Just like I do.”

As she sipped her water, Drake covered her free hand with his. “Are you okay though? You did kill someone tonight.”

“Weirdly, yes,” she admitted. “He was a threat to us, to our children. He was a tyrant, and the world is a better place without him in it. I don’t regret making that choice, and I don’t regret doing it myself either.”

He chuckled softly and kissed the side of her head. “You sound like me after the first time I killed someone.”

Amara looked over at him then, tightening her grip on his hand. “Are you okay? You’ve been a little different since the fire. Especially in the hospital.”

The smile he gave her gave her butterflies, and he reached up with his free hand to brush his knuckles down her cheek. “A lot better now that no one is trying to take you from me.”

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