Page 4 of Claimed By the Damned

“She can heal me anytime,” Knox interrupted, whispering it in her ear.

“Uh, no. I’m not a healer. I’m . . .” She paused and took a large gulp of whiskey. Her face scrunched, and she let out a breath. “I’m actually the alpha’s daughter.”

Knox whistled low as the news settled into Drake’s gut, hot and heavy.

This was definitely not what he wanted to hear. The alpha’s daughter was one of the most important people in the pack, which meant the whole situation they had found themselves in just got a whole lot messier. But how was he supposed to get them out of it? Out of this? He’d have to think of something because, no matter the way he looked at it, it was going to be difficult.

“From the sounds of it,” Zeke began after a moment of silence, “you’re not proud of that.”

“Let’s just say that my father and I don’t always see eye-to-eye,” she whispered while poking the whiskey’s ice with her index finger.

“And why is that?” Drake asked, speaking for the first time since they got her into the apartment. He could tell it was something she didn’t want to talk about, but he was hoping to make her so uncomfortable that she left. He needed to talk to the guys and convince them to stay away from her. This was a bad idea. She was a bad idea, and he didn’t understand how the guys couldn’t see it.

“It’s a long story.”

Drake’s nostrils flared. “So, more secrets.”

Abandoning the ice, she glanced up at him.

Knox moved her hair off her shoulder. “And I suppose Daddy won’t be very happy if you come home with a rogue’s bite mark on your neck,” he guessed, playfully nibbling her neck.

Drake slammed his fist down on the granite, making Amara jump. “No one is biting anyone.”

Knox chuckled. “I think we made him upset.”

“We are just getting to know each other a bit,” Zeke said evenly to Drake. “Calm down.”

Knox’s eyes sparkled. His attention hadn’t left Amara the entire time. He settled a hand on her thigh and slid it up. She finally peeked at him when he said, “Does it bother you that a rogue wants to fuck that little pussy of yours?”

Amara nearly choked on her own spit. “Well, I . . . uh . . . I personally don’t have anything against rogues. But I don’t know you well enough to think that kind of thing.”

“You’re our mate,” Knox stated, his voice deep and gravelly. “What’s there to think about?”

“Knox . . .” Zeke warned. “Stop trying to get into her pants.”

Knox spared him a quick look. “I think she secretly wants it. I think she secretly wants all of us. I mean . . . look at the ice. Little bunny is trembling.”

Amara’s brows pinched together, and her attention focused back on the ice, which was indeed rattling around inside her glass because of her trembling hand. “I think she’s sitting right here and can speak for herself, thanks,” she grumbled.

“You don’t need to speak. I can smell your arousal,” Knox proclaimed with a smirk. He inhaled the air around them. “You’re interested. More than interested.”

Drake watched as Amara subconsciously squeezed her thighs together, and her cheeks flooded with color. Knox wasn’t wrong. He could smell it from where he sat – that sweet scent that had his wolf begging. Damn it if he didn’t want her too, but he was never going to cross that line. He couldn’t. Someone had to be smart about this.

“Well, you’re not afraid to speak your mind,” Amara commented a little dryly, taking another drink.

“He’s an acquired taste,” Zeke muttered.

Knox’s grin was feral when he asked, “Do you want to taste me, little bunny?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Drake growled.

Amara giggled nervously. “I don’t even know what to say to that. But before we get to any . . . tasting, we should probably talk about what this means for us. Clearly, there’s no denying what’s going on here.”

Drake couldn’t help the edge to his voice when he said, “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

He didn’t miss the frown Zeke turned his way. “What the fuck are you talking about, man?” he asked, his accent thicker.

How the hell could they not see it? “She’s pack, Zeke. We’re not. The two don’t mix,” he growled. His fist clenched and unclenched on the counter.

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