Page 5 of Claimed By the Damned

“I see,” Zeke murmured as something dawned on him. “Well, you can deny it all you want, but I don’t plan to, and by the looks of it, neither does Knox.” Zeke motioned toward Knox, who was leaning ridiculously close to Amara and playing with a few strands of her hair again. He twirled them around his fingers as if they were ribbons of silk.

Amara’s lips twisted to the side. “In a way, Drake is right though. This is bound to cause some problems.”

Knox nipped the air between them. “Problems are fun.”

“We can figure it out as we go,” Zeke promised. “But I have no plans of knowing my mate is within reach and not doing something about it.”

She looked between the three of them. “You guys can’t have seriously already decided that you want to be with me. You just met me a half hour ago.”

Exactly.

“Are you saying you don’t want this?” Zeke asked.

“I . . .” Amara glanced at her feet. She seemed to be struggling over her words, but Drake mentally chanted for her to agree that she didn’t want them. It would make this so much easier.

Part of him hoped that she didn’t want this, the part that didn’t want to fuck her. The guys would be heartbroken, but they would get through it just like they did with everyone else they had left behind before settling here. But if she admitted that she wanted to give it a try, he didn’t think there was anything he could do to convince the guys otherwise.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she admitted after a while. “I know the pull is there, but I don’t see how it would work with my being pack and you guys being . . .” She let her sentence trail off as if calling them rogues was something dirty. It was what they were; there was no denying that fact.

“That’s because it won’t work,” Drake said simply. Maybe he could convince her to see reason.

“How about you sleep on it?” Zeke suggested. “Nothing has to be decided right now.”

“The fuck it doesn’t,” Knox growled.

Zeke gave him a look over Amara’s head, and Knox bared his teeth but said nothing else.

Amara set her now-empty glass down on the coffee table and rose to her feet, forcing Knox to drop his arm. “I should probably go anyway. I need to get back.”

“Will you touch yourself when you find yourself missing me?” Knox asked, his expression serious.

Amara laughed, the first real laugh Drake had heard from her. It was not an unpleasant sound. In fact, it gave him goosebumps. “Anyway, thank you again. For, well, everything tonight. The drink and the other thing.” She was avoiding saying that they had actually killed someone for her. He briefly wondered how she felt about that.

Zeke stood up with her and pulled out his phone. “What’s your phone number?”

“Why?” Amara asked skeptically.

“So that you can have mine in case something happens and you need us,” Zeke answered.

After a moment of consideration, she rattled off her number, which he, unfortunately, committed to memory while both Zeke and Knox put it into their phones. With every second that passed, he lost hope of being able to forget this night ever happened even more.

Her phone dinged twice with two incoming messages. “There,” Zeke said, pocketing his phone. “Now you have them.”

Pulling her phone from her back pocket, Amara looked at them before laughing again. She glanced at Knox. “Did you really send me a dick pic?”

“Thought you might need some inspiration for when you touch yourself tonight,” Knox answered in that deep voice again. A feral grin overtook his face once more.

“Uh-huh. And you just happen to keep pictures of your dick on your phone?”

“I’m sure you’d like to know why,” he said, his eyes raking over her attention-grabbing tits down to her wide hips as if he were undressing her.

Amara shook her head and pocketed her phone again. “You guys have a good rest of your night, and I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Not if he had anything to say about it.

Chapter Three

Amara

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