Page 25 of Claim of Blood
The bitterness twisted in his gut, turning to nausea. What else had they lied about?
And what would they do if they knew what he was feeling now?
It was Felix who had found the discarded journals—the ones set aside for destruction. The ones that contradicted the narrative. Felix, who had hidden them away. Who’d let Leo read between the cracks.
And now he was here. Living proof that the story he’d been raised to follow wasn’t just flawed—it was fiction.
The bitterness lodged in his throat like a bone. But even that couldn’t drown out the heat pooling between his legs.
Another slow slide of cum escaped him, sticky against his skin. He bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a sound. His jeans were ruined—soaked through, obvious. No one had said anything. They didn’t need to.
He curled tighter, drawing his knees toward his chest, trying to fold himself into nothing. His face burned.
What would his family think of him now?
Their weapon. Their bait. Sitting like a supplicant at the feet of the very creature they’d sent him to monitor. Marked. Used. Leaking.
And worse... he hadn’t hated it.
No—worse than that. He’d wanted it. Begged for it. And he would do it again.
What would his family think if they knew he loved it?
The shame cracked something open in his chest, but the bond pulsed over it like warm silk, threading through the hollowness with dangerous comfort.
Adam had spoken to him since the claiming, but only when necessary—questions, commands, cool authority layered over intimate acts. And now? Nothing. Just his hand, sliding gently through Leo’s hair.
That touch said more than words ever had. It told Leo to stay, to be still and quiet, and his.
And somehow, that made it worse. Or maybe it made it better. Leo didn’t know anymore.
The rhythm of voices slowed, pausing long enough for Leo to register that something had shifted. Chairs scraped softly against the floor, followed by the rustle of fabric and the faint sound of footsteps retreating toward the hall.
“I’ll speak with my people about Solstice preparations,” Emilia said, her voice soft as smoke and just as impossible to ignore. She smiled, and Leo had the distinct feeling that when she spoke, the stars leaned in to listen.
“I’ll have my pack increase patrols,” Nathaniel added. His tone had softened. Not exactly warm, but no longer bristling. “We’ll make sure any hunters who get too curious find themselves... distracted.”
Their words echoed like they were being spoken in another room, through layers of cotton and fog. Had it been minutes? Hours? Time had become slippery. Leo couldn’t tell how long he’d been curled on the floor, couldn’t even remember if anyone had looked directly at him since the interrogation.
But now... he could feel them. Cruel. Measuring. Judging.
Their footsteps faded one by one until only Maja remained. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her—the weight of her presence behind Adam’s chair.
“It’s getting late,” she said. “We should get him settled.” Her gaze lingered, and he felt it like pressure on his skin. “Where will you be keeping him?”
“In a guest room,” Adam replied, his voice flat but final.
Leo barely had time to process the words before Adam’s hand shifted—trailing down the back of his neck until his thumb brushed the edge of the claim mark. The touch sent a joltdown his spine, nerves lighting up like wires under current. He shuddered—not from fear, but from something warmer.
Maja vanished with supernatural speed, presumably to prepare the rooms. Leo blinked at the space where she’d stood, as if the air itself had cut her out like a photo clipped from a page.
Then Adam moved.
The loss of contact was immediate. Leo felt it in the cold that rushed in where that hand had just been, in the emptiness at his side where warmth had lived for... God, how long had it been? He blinked up at Adam, dazed.
“Come,” Adam said gently, offering his hand. “It’s about a ten-minute walk at a human pace to the mansion.”
Leo’s legs trembled as he stood, muscles protesting after sitting curled for so long. Adam’s arm slipped around his waist, steadying him. The contact shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did.
