Page 61 of Debt of My Soul

I glance toward Fleur. She’s pissed herself. Her hair sticks to the sweat gleam on her forehead, and her shirt, which is actually mine, is soaked through. Her eyes are red-rimmed and heavy. She’s barely holding on. She clutches her shovel, embracing it, to keep from falling over.

This is all wrong. It’s horrible what I’m about to do, but I don’t know another way out. I take a breath.

“I’m claiming her.”

The already quiet clearing becomes soundless. Not even the nocturnal creatures make a peep.

Fleur’s brow furrows as Blitz roars with laughter. “Claim her. You can’t do?—”

“I’ve already cleared it with Darrin.” I roll my shoulders back and lower my gun, planting a vicious smirk on my face. “It’s the perfect penalty for Adam. Watching the girl he was vying for marry his brother.”

At the mention of marriage, Fleur’s face freezes, shock warring in her expression, and she frowns.

“Plus, it saves some space in the clearing. You know we’re running low,” I add. Tension sweeps away with my carefree comment and the men laugh. Nausea thickens in my gut.

Blitz chuckles but pulls out his phone and brings it to his ear as he steps away. “Boss …”

His words trickle to the side as I turn to Fleur. I expect to find relief in her eyes, considering her fate, but she glares at me, wobbling with her fatigue. I glare back at her. I don’t need this. I did this for her. For Adam.

“Darrin says he’s approved this. I’ve been instructed to bring in a minister first thing in the morning. Take her, clean her up. God knows she needs it.” He turns to address Fleur. “Liam saved his brother yet again. You’ll marry him in the morning. As is our tradition, claiming means you’re his unless he decides to share.”

He smirks at his comment and a primal urge to growl at him hits me out of nowhere. I’m not sure how I’m going to explain this is how we do things here. That Darrin and Blitz resemble cult leaders over drug lords. Not to mention claiming her requires a branding no one should be subjected to against their will.

It’s not my problem. I did what I needed to.

“Get this cleaned up,” Blitz says to some of the guys, and they automatically jump to obey.

Now comes the part I’m dreading. Saying I claim Fleur was the easy part. The hard part is everything that follows.

I turn toward her, exploring the long blond strands sticking to her face. The dark circles under her eyes are so intense it looks like she was in a fistfight.

Food, water, a shower, and sleep. That’s what she needs right now.

Fleur watches me as I approach her, still propped up on her shovel handle. I don’t think she has the strength to hold herself up anymore. When I near her, she flinches, nearly tumbling to the ground. I reach out to steady her elbow—she’s shaking.

With my other hand, I take the shovel from her.

She stares back at me, those gray eyes probing me with unspoken questions. I can tell she wants to know what’s going on. Why I’m doing this. Can she trust me?

I don’t offer her any answers. I can’t. Instead, I pull her toward me and gesture back over toward the cabins, prompting her to follow.

She does her best, but I notice every few steps she stumbles over the thick pine needles or downed branches. I grit my teeth and tighten my fists at my sides to keep from reaching back to grab her—I can’t be seen helping her. This is meant to be a punishment for Adam, nothing more.

Blowing out several huffs of frustration, we finally leave the surrounding woods and move along the gravel pathways toward my cabin. Women shriek and giggle from the clubhouse, seated in the laps of men around the fire. I manage to catch Fleur’s horror as she watches the languid party taking place after her traumatic experience. For me, it’s another day.

I slow as I approach my one-bedroom cabin, grateful this one is farther than the others. Some of the men are known for sneaking around, not overly thrilled to be following Darrin’s rules of claiming.

I run through everything in my head as I jog up the steps, glancing behind me to see that Fleur has slowed. Still shivering, her eyes flick from side to side and over the cabin. It’s not much, but it’s home. I’ve had to make it mine.

First on the agenda, a warm shower and clothes. I’m going to have to take her into town at some point to get new clothes that fit her. Given her farmhouse is currently ash in a field, she’s going to need a few things. Get too little and she’s uncomfortable, get too much and the men will think she is too comfortable. The balance of this game is already mentally taxing, and I haven’t even married her yet.

Unlocking the door, it squeaks when I swing it open and move to turn on the light. I can feel her at my back, her warmth seeping into me. Leaning against the wall, I kick my boots off and motion her inside with my hand. She hesitates.

“The warm shower isinsidethe cabin, Fleur. Not on the porch.”

She narrows her eyes at me, but they falter as she shuffles inside. I shut the door and ignore the living room and kitchen to march straight into the bathroom.

It’s small, featuring a shower-tub combo and an obnoxiously short vanity. Ripping back the dark green shower curtain, I move the handle to hot and let the shower warm. There are only a couple of towels under the vanity, but I snag one and set it on the toilet seat. After checking to make sure there’s soap and shampoo, I glance back at the front door.

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