Page 16 of Claimed By Shadows

There’s a limo waiting in the driveway, and Sergi tugs me after him, placing me next to him. Nik and his two men enter afterwards, all three of them taking the bench seat opposite us. Then Nik reaches over, grabbing two of the already filled champagne flutes that are on a sort of minibar at the end.

“Father,” Nik states, handing Sergi one flute, then holding out the other for me. “Iris.”

I take it, our fingers brushing and sending electricity racing across my skin.

“Thank you,” I whisper, sipping the cool liquid and letting the bubbles tickle my throat.

Sergi starts up a conversation in Russian, completely dismissing me as he often does when we’re with anyone else. I’m grateful, because having his full attention never works out well for me. I sit there, sipping my champagne and thinking aboutwhat it will be like to see the Shadows again. Will they notice some of the bruises that decorate my skin? Will they be as pissed as Nik clearly was to see Sergi’s collar on me? My stomach swirls the longer we drive, regretting the alcohol as worry plagues my mind. This is going to be a challenge, and the worst part will be having to go back with Sergi, knowing what awaits when we get back to the mansion.

The limo, which wasn’t exactly going very fast due to London traffic, pulls up in front of a townhouse. There’s nothing particularly identifying about it, just the usual white stone and black metal railings. There is a liveried doorman in front of the large painted door, the only sign that this might not just be a normal house.

A blast of fresh air hits me as the door to the limo is opened, Dima getting out, then Nik, Andrei, and finally Sergi who tugs on my lead so I’m forced to follow. I shiver as the night air wraps its chilly embrace around me, feeling Nik’s warmth close to me a second later as if he knew I was cold.

Sergi doesn’t wait, one of his men leading the way up the stone steps, the doorman opening the door to give us entry. More warmth surrounds me when I step inside the house and find a beautifully lit entrance hall, chequered tiles on the floor, and some kind of patterned black silk lining the walls.

“Good evening, Mr. Petrov and Mr. Petrov,” a feminine voice greets, and I look beyond Sergi to see a stunning redhead dressed in an evening gown. “We just need to check for weapons as a precaution.” A huge man steps forward, running a wand over all the guys, nodding when nothing happens. “Excellent. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you upstairs.”

Sergi doesn’t even bother greeting her or acknowledging her at all, and clearly Nik follows suit because we walk behind the woman, no one saying a word. My pulse is fast, a sense of breathlessness overcoming me as we walk up the carpeted stairsto the next floor. More doors are opened for us, and I blink as we step into a brighter space, though still tastefully lit, the scent of cigar smoke cloying and making my eyes water a little.

We are led to a table in the centre, some of the seats already taken, and my heart damn near stops when I lock gazes with bright emerald eyes.

“THROUGH THE FIRE” BY EUPHORIA, BOLSHIEE

HUNTER

It’s like the entire world stops spinning when I look into her wide hazel eyes, longing ripping through me with enough force to stop the breath in my lungs. She looks so fucking gorgeous, the brief glimpse of her translucent dress instantly hardening my cock in my tux trousers as a mixture of rage and lust war within me. I hate that anyone else is seeing her like this, knowing that she probably had very little choice in what she wore tonight adding to my anger.

Rowan’s deep growl draws my gaze to her slender neck where that fucking collar sits, a ring of bruises just under it that has red flashing across my vision for a moment. Taking a deep inhale through my nose, I spot the silver lead that’s attached to it, the other end wrapped around Sergi’s fist. My lip curls as I meet his shit-brown gaze, his lips pulled up in a smug smile even as his nostrils flare.

“What are theseUbludoksdoing here?” he spits, and Lucifer stills, who is also at our table, menace radiating from his masked face.

“Are you questioning who I am allowed to invite to my game, Sergi Petrov?” he questions, his voice sending forbidding shivers down my spine. I’m not scared of many people, but Lucifer and the rest of the Fallen make my hackles rise the way they would when you look up to find three tigers staring back at you, waiting to pounce.

“Of course not, Lucifer,” Sergi replies in a measured tone, taking a seat but keeping ahold of that fucking lead. I’m glad we weren’t allowed to bring weapons, because I’m pretty sure Rowan would have launched himself across the table and removed Sergi’s hand by now if he’d bought one of his knives.

“Excellent. Shall we begin?” Lucifer suggests, nodding to the dealer who deals us our cards. The game is good old-fashioned Texas Hold ‘Em, something I’m pretty familiar playing as there wasn’t much else to do growing up but gamble with shit like dares with the twins. We didn’t have any money, so had to be inventive. It’s how Roman got me to give him our first kiss, the sneaky bastard.

Refocusing back on the game, I place my bet. Luckily we’re rich motherfuckers now, so we brought almost everything we had spare in the hopes that it might somehow get Iris back.

The game goes on for hours, waiting staff bringing us drinks and snacks as we keep playing. I’m winning as much as I’m losing, but Sergi seems to be losing more and more as time goes on, his fist wrapped around that fucking lead clenching tighter and tighter with each round we play. Iris’s gaze is fixed on us, and I feel the burn of it each time she looks at me, seeing the desperation in her hazel eyes gutting me every time.

“Are you still in the game, Petrov?” Lucifer asks some time later, and I look away from Iris to find Sergi’s brows beaded with sweat.

“I’ll have to write an IOU, but you know I’m good for it, Lucifer,” Sergi says, and my heart pounds inside my chest. Oneof the rules of tonight was no IOUs, it’s why we brought so much fucking money. You can only play with what you have tonight.

Lucifer sighs. “That’s not allowed, I’m afraid. You can only play with what you bring.” He pauses, his dark eyes seeming to gleam in the ambient lighting. “Of course, you could always bet your pretty pet. She’d keep you in the game.”

The look he gives Iris is enough to have my jaw clenching so hard that pain shoots up and down my neck. The twins give a growl behind me, but I keep my gaze locked on Sergi, who looks pissed but is also taking in Lucifer’s interest in Iris. My palms start to sweat, a fluttery, empty feeling filling my stomach as Sergi’s expression turns pinched, his lips pressing into a white slash.

“Fine, for tonight only then,” he states, and Lucifer tuts.

“We play for keeps, Petrov. You know the rules. You could always bow out if she’s worth more to you than the game.” His stare is laser-focused on Sergi and we all hear his unspoken words. If Sergi bows out, he’s telling everyone that Iris is a weakness for him and worth more than a potential alliance with the Fallen, which is something he can’t afford to do in his position as head of the Russian Bratva. He may have power, a shit ton of it, but the Fallen have more.

Sergi shifts in his seat, and I can’t tear my eyes away to look at Iris, needing to see what he does next. Then his lips tip up in a smile that is more a baring of teeth than anything else.

“Of course not, Lucifer,” he states, unwinding the lead from his fist and placing the end on the table among the chips. “Shall we continue?”

The smile Lucifer gives him sends a bolt of terror running up my spine. It’s the grin of someone who’s already won and knows there is nothing you can do to stop them. I chance a glance at Iris, catching the brush of fingers against hers, Nik shifting closer to her. Her hands tremble at her sides, her eyes fillingwith tears as she looks at the middle of the table, and I fucking loathe that she’s being traded like this. Like she’s no more than something to be passed around.

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