Page 3 of Claimed By Shadows

“Her screams are music every night Sergi fucks her,” the man rasps, spit flying from his mouth. The blood freezes in my veins, and I hold my hand up to pause Rowan, all of us stilling. The Russian smiles, blood lining his teeth as no doubt he bit the inside of his cheek with the pain. “She’s so loud we can all hear, even with the door shut, and it makes me hard as a rock.”

I straighten up, stalking towards him until we’re almost nose to nose.

“Anything else?” My voice is barely a growl, like boulders grating against each other just before a landslide happens.

He. Fucking. Smiles.

“I’ve held her down a few times. We all have, though only Sergi may fuck her, and she bleeds so beautifully when he takes her, bruising so perfectly under his fists.” Nausea swirls in my gut at his words, at the truth I can see in his eyes. He knows he’s going to die. He has no reason to lie, unless he thinks his words will earn him a quick death. He’s wrong.

“Roman, secateurs,” I snarl, watching as our prisoner’s pupils widen.

The secateurs are in my hand a second later, and I step back, my gaze drifting downward to where his limp dick hangs. He’s not large, not too small either, which makes it easier for what I’m about to do. Roman goes behind him, holding his hips as he tries to jerk away, then I place the cutters on the base of him and snap them shut.

The scream that comes from his mouth is inhuman, blood pouring from between his legs as I let the secateurs and his severed dick fall to the floor with aclankand a wet sound. Before I need to say anything, Rowan is there with a small blowtorch, sealing the wound so this cunt doesn’t die too quickly. He passes out then, and I step back as Roman throws a bucket of ice water over the man to rouse him.

“It’s no fun if you’re not awake,” he tells him casually, setting the bucket down before grabbing a metal baseball bat.

The next few hours flow into one, each of us allowing our beasts free rein to do as they wish. It doesn’t stop the words he said from buzzing around my brain like angry wasps, stinging me over and over again until I’m bleeding just as much as he is.Though my wounds are invisible, his are less so, and by the time we’re finished, he’s almost unrecognisable.

Something drips down the side of my face and crimson soaks my hands, my clothes not much better. I look up at the twins, my chest heaving. They’re nightmarish in appearance, and my heart clenches at the deadness in Rowan’s eyes.

“Let’s leave him near the gates of the Petrov Estate,” I tell him, and he nods. “Get cleaned up and wrap the body. We’ll have to get rid of the car. Call Jonny.”

Jonny is our clean-up guy. He and his guys will have this room and the tools wiped down and the body cleaned of our DNA before dropping it where we need it to go. Sergi can guess who is killing off his men, but I don’t want to give him anything concrete.

A wave of worry runs through me as I realise Iris might be forced to pay for our actions today, and I clench my blood-soaked hands into fists as I stalk to the back of the room where there is a bathroom that we use to shower and clean ourselves after these sessions. I stride in, shedding my clothes and leaving them in a pile for Jon to take care of before walking over to the shower and turning it up to scalding.

I step under it, hissing as it burns my skin, but the pain grounds me. It’s something I should suffer, given what I now know Iris is suffering at the hands of that bastard. The bathroom door opens and shuts, the sound of clothes hitting the floor before another body steps into the shower.

“Jesus! Fuck, Hunt!” Roman exclaims, reaching past me to turn the temperature down. My chest rises and falls with my panted breaths, the sting of tears gathering in my eyes.

“She’s hurting, Roman,” I grit out through clenched teeth, my jaw so tight pain shoots down my neck. “She’s hurting, and I let him take her.”

His forehead rests on my back, his arms coming around and pulling me close to him.

“You had no choice, Hunt,” he tells me, something he has said so many times in the past three weeks I’ve almost lost count.

I swallow, knowing that he’s right but unable to shed the blame that coats my skin like an oil slick. “She chose us, and we failed.”

“I know.” His voice is thick and the tears fall from my eyes, mixing with the water from the shower.

I’m so fucking sorry, Peaches.

“SLIP AWAY” BY UNSECRET, RUELLE

IRIS

After breakfast, I’m led back upstairs to get dressed, my clothes for the day set out on the bed as they are each time I’m required by Sergi to change. He likes me in demure clothes, something that someone older than me would wear. The silk blouse and pencil skirt he laid out are perfectly fashionable, especially as both are Chanel, but they are not me.

Sighing, I head into the bathroom and quickly shower, brushing my teeth and hair, styling it in a simple, elegant bun as Sergi prefers. I want to leave it free or up in a messy bun, but I know the punishment will be severe and I’m just so fucking tired of fighting all the time.

Heading back into the bedroom, I pick up the black lace underwear and put it on, revulsion making the back of my jaw tingle. It’s beautifully soft and no doubt very expensive, but thatSergi chose it, that he knows what’s touching my most intimate places is enough to make me want to throw up.

Soon I’m dressed exactly as he likes, and I pull on the wool jacket that was in my closet when I arrived as I head to the door. I open it to find the goon from before waiting, arms crossed and a scowl on his ugly face. I haven’t bothered to find out the names of Sergi’s men, the ones that have seen so much of me. Some have even held me down while Sergi?—

I cut that thought off, my fists clenching as I ignore goon number one and stride past him towards the stairs. If I think about the nightly torment I undergo, I’ll start screaming and never stop.

Nikolai will be here soon…

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