Page 50 of Claimed By the Damned

The new ink Knox had was not in a place where he would be able to do it himself and was not in his handwriting. He didn’t have big bubbly writing.

He sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Or having her give him one,” he added.

Zeke chuckled under his breath from where he stood next to the edge of the bed. “He’s not the only one who got a tattoo.”

Drake’s gaze snapped toward Amara, whom he had been actively trying not to look at. Sure enough, the dark ink stood out against the pale skin of her chest, right on the swell of her left breast. “Fucking hell.”

Zeke leaned over Amara and squinted. “It’s our names.”

That knowledge had him rolling his eyes. “Of course it is. Figures that Knox would tattoo your names on her. Fucking freak.”

Righting himself, Zeke pointed. “Your name is on there too.”

He blinked. “Wait, what? Why the fuck would he do that?”

He knew that Knox was constantly trying to get him to accept the bond between him and Amara, but he didn’t think the guy would go this far. Surely, she had told him about her rejection, so why would she allow Knox to etch his name into her skin permanently?

“Because she’s your mate too. Get over it and shut the fuck up. I’m trying to sleep here,” Knox grumbled softly, trying not to wake Amara.

Zeke chuckled under his breath and shook his head, but Drake could only stare at his name and the way it stood out against her soft flesh. If he was being honest, he didn’t know how he felt about it. On the one hand, he was pissed because he hadn’t claimed her as his yet, but on the other hand, he liked that it was there. He liked that the world, should they glimpse it, would know that she was his.

While he was struggling with this new emotion, Zeke sat down on the edge of the bed and gently stroked Amara’s back. “Princesa,” he whispered when she began to stir.

“Hmm?” she mumbled back sleepily.

“I’m here to relieve you.”

She smiled softly but shook her head. “I’m fine here. You go get some rest.”

“You’re not fine, Amara,” Drake stated as gently as he could. “You need some real food.”

“Mm, I had a bag of Twizzlers with my coffee. I’m okay.”

Zeke kissed her bare shoulder. “That’s not real food. You need a meal.”

“I’ll take you out,” Drake offered, surprising even himself.

Both Zeke and Amara turned to look at him, and even Knox cracked an eye open. By their expressions, it was evident that they were just as taken aback by his offer as he was.

“What?” he grumbled. “She needs to eat, and we haven’t gone shopping. The logical choice is to get her some damn food.”

“Is this a ploy to get me alone so you can murder me?” Amara asked skeptically, her eyes still squinty from sleep.

His lips pressed into a thin line as he shifted to one side. “No. It’s just food. If it will make you more comfortable, Zeke can go with you, and I can watch over this asshole.”

He wouldn’t mind either way, at least outwardly. He just wanted her to get some real food in her so he could stop the nagging worry that had planted itself in his chest.

“As much as I’d like you to stay here with me, they are right. You need to eat,” Knox told her. “You’ve done enough for me. Go. You need your strength.”

“Why? Are you planning another tattoo party?” she teased him as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Knox’s smile grew. “I knew it. You liked it.”

Amara leaned over and pressed her lips against Knox’s. “I did.” With that, she climbed out of bed, wrapping the sheet around herself as she moved toward her bag. “I guess I can eat. I don’t really care who takes me.”

After pulling out some clothes, she headed into the hall and toward the bathroom to get dressed.

Once she was gone, Drake turned back toward the others, only to be met by Zeke’s questioning stare.

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