Page 61 of Claimed By Rage

My face flushes crimson. I want to tell him that there won’t be a next time, but—didn’t I promise something like, oh, I don’t know, having his baby? I press my hand to my stomach, butterflies fluttering rapidly within. I can’t be held responsiblefor decisions made under duress. Surely, Rage will understand if I tell him that I didn’t mean it?—

He catches what I’m doing and a sunny smile breaks across his face.

Shit.Maybe not.

The door suddenly opens, and I shriek in surprise and cover my chest with my sweater. My bra is still lost to the floor somewhere.

Ducking through the doorway, the limo guy from the last club event atMidnightenters the room. What was his name? Thanos? His gaze flicks between Rage and me, disinterest quickly turning into something sour. Lip curling, he shoulders the duffel bag slung across his back before dropping it to the ground. “Did you just have sex?Here?”

“Thanatos,” Rage greets, ignoring the question while he buckles his belt. “This is good. We need to talk. Have a seat. No, actually, grab your things. We’ve got a job.”

“Youhave a job. I just got back.” There are dark circles under his eyes that weren’t there the last time we met, his hair unkempt and dirty. He drags his bag across the floor to the bed, frowns at the messy sheets, then drags it over to the desk. Unzipping it, he pulls out a handful of weapons of all sizes. Knives. Pistols. A semi-auto rifle and multiple ammo cartridges. Once he’s rummaged around for all the loose bits, he kicks the bag back toward the bed. “I’m not due in for another six hours.”

Six hours.What a shit schedule.

Rage bends, plucking my bra from beneath a small accent table, and tosses it toward me. “Get dressed, Celia.”

“I need to shower!”

“No, you don’t.” Even Rage looks freshly-fucked, a sheen of sweat still sticking to his skin. He wears the sexed-up look well, dripping with confidence that makes my pussy flutter.God,I shouldn’t want to have sex with him again so soon.

But me, on the other hand—I bet I look like a drowned rat that barely made it out of the river alive.

The other guy’s gaze flicks toward me once he’s seated in a flimsy metal chair that looks like it’ll snap under his weight. His eyes narrow as he looks me up and down, clearly disliking everything about me.

The feeling’s mutual, asshole. The buzz from life-altering sex is officially killed.

“Yeah, she does. She smells like a whore.”

I choke on saliva.

“But not here. I’m staying here, Rage,” he sighs, running a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Get the fuck out with your—” helaughs, throaty and deep, cutting himself off before he can finish his thought. “God, I need some sleep.”

“Celia. Bra. Sweater. Boots.” Rage fixes me with a stern look before walking over to his half-brother. He grabs the gun Thanatos is trying to clean, impeding his progress. “Thatwhore,” he rumbles, “ismine.She has a fucking name. Use it.”

Thanatos glares at Rage, then at me. “You need a goddamned shower,princess.There, happy?”

A frustrated cry catches in my throat. “I’m not a princess!”

“You’re not anything!” he snaps back, standing so fast that his chair crashes to the floor. “You’re not a part of this fucking familyorthis bratva. What the hell is she doing here, Rage? If she’s just a hole for you to fill?—”

I gasp aloud.

“—do it in your fucking club! Not in my bed!”

“She is mywoman,” Rage seethes, clenching his fists. “I’ll fill her up as much as I fucking please, whereverI please. You’ll be happy about it when you’re jerking off to our cum on your sheets.”

Thanatos’s jaw clenches, a muscle in his neck pulsing. “I willnotjerk off to some prima donna bitch.”

I shove my arms through my sweater and tug it over my head. Screw the bra.

“Excuse me, I’m right here!” I storm over to both men and plant my hands on my hips. “An actual human being, not a cum dumpster, or a prima donna princess, or whatever stupid title you’re gonna throw at me next.” I glare at Thanatos. “I didn’t know you were living here, so I’m sorry. I’d hate if someone else had sex in my bed, too—” I wince at the memory of thatexactthing happening to me—“but I genuinely had no idea. You don’t have to be a dick about it. Andyou,” I hiss, jabbing Rage’s chest with my fingertip, “stop being so vulgar and maybe someone will actually like me! It’s like none of you grew up with a sister or a mother or anyone other than yourselves. Our image matters! How people perceive usmatters.We can’t go around swinging our fists every time someone insults us.” I roll my eyes.

“That’s all you princesses know, isn’t it?” Thanatos crosses his arms over his chest. “Petty bullshit about makeup and parties and fancy red heels. Fake smiles and faker tits.” He glares at me. “There arerealthreats out there, ones that you can’t fuck into submission.” He turns his glare onto Rage. “I never expected to come back and find you pussy-whipped. You’ve even talked the others into it! All three of you are obsessing over this girl like she’s some God-given miracle, when all she is, is leftover trash her husband threw out.”

It’s like a punch to the gut.

Thanatos isn’t finished yet, his face burning red as he rages. “Your daddy couldn’t stand having such a weak daughter, could he? Had to kill himself just to get away from you. You weren’t even chosen as our interim Queen when Valentina left, because you were too scared to marry one of our own, running off to some white collared bastard?—”

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