Page 3 of Claiming Claire

“What’s wrong, Claire? You look like you’re ready to run,” the one that I knew now as Jace Stonewall said, a smirk tilting up the corner of his lips.

It’s because I am ready to run. “I-I’m not going to run.”

His blue eyes danced with humor, but his face seemed otherwise passive. “You sure about that?”

“P-positive.”

His eyes suddenly became cold. “I would be ready to run if I were you. Because you’re the daughter of the man who murdered my father, and you just became mine.”

“Ours,” one of the men corrected behind him.

He nodded his agreement to that, “Ours. I would be scared if I were in your shoes.”

Well, now, I’m terrified. “I didn’t know.”

My voice came out as a whisper, but I knew he heard me. “It doesn’t change the facts, sweetheart.” He reached up to pull on a strand of curled hair by my ear, and I flinched. He pulled back, looking a bit annoyed. “Do you think we would hurt you?”

Yes. Absolutely. No questions asked. I might be dead tomorrow. “No.”

“We may despise your father, but we wouldn’t hurt you because of that fact. No, but you are part of the payback. I mean, what’s a better slap in the face than having the enemy get your daughter with pups?”

I felt equal parts of relief and disgust. Sure, they wouldn’t physically hurt me, but the thought of being a pawn for the rest of my life already put me into mental anguish. “I-I . . .“ I fumbled with the words, nerves striking me dumb. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What? To marry the enemy? I’ll let you back out if you really want to. Go back to your dear old dad and live in the precious tower you’ve been kept in . . . if you really want to.”

Only I didn’t have a dear old dad, not really. There was no precious tower or joyous life Jace hinted at. Only me, alone in the musty house day in and day out, with family to keep me company. Minus the odd jobs trusted pack members hired me to do, I couldn’t leave without permission, always having to carry my phone on me to be tracked and monitored. The same phone that’s currently laying in my bedroom, on the nightstand.

Two situations, neither of them favorable. But maybe one was better than the other? “Do you, can I . . . ?” I paused, feeling the weight of four sets of eyes boring into me. “Can I leave the house?”

Jace reeled back like it was the dumbest question he ever heard. “Of course you can leave the house. I mean, let one of us know, so we don’t worry, but why would we lock you away?”

He didn’t get it, and that was okay, I didn’t want to explain it either. “I’ll do it.” He stared at me in confusion, leaving me to clarify, “I’ll join your pack.”

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