Page 9 of Claimed

‘Valentin?’

His grip is bruising, his face ravaged with fury and pain carved into every line. ‘No…’ His voice is wrecked. ‘…one… touches…’ His grip spasms. ‘…you.’

A shiver runs through me so hard my bones ache. ‘I know,’ I whisper, throat tight. ‘You made that part very clear. Terrible timing, by the way.’

His eyes flare and for a second, I think he recognises the snark in my voice. The fear under it, and the stupid, impossible tenderness I cannot afford.

Then his gaze drops to my throat… the bite. His nostrils flare.

‘Valentin,’ I say carefully. ‘Look at me.’

His fingers tighten, the predator in his eyes sharpening.

‘No fangs,’ I tease, reminding him of the first time we kissed.

Something changes as the phrase reaches him. His jaw flexes. His fangs are already visible, but he doesn’t move towards my throat.

Then he laughs, a broken, breathless sound that might once have wanted to be amusement and got mangled on the way out.

‘Still…’ His voice drags itself from him like gravel soaked in blood. ‘…giving… orders.’

Relief slams harder, almost folding me in half. ‘There you are,’ I whisper. ‘Can you… can you stay with me, stop this melodramatic passing out?’

For one suspended second, he’s here.

Then he bows off the mattress, back arching, hand tearing free of mine to clamp over his chest. The room erupts in red-black light. I throw myself back as the Heartshard Glass screams again.

Outside, the door seal shatters and the bedroom doors explode inward.

Black-clad bodies fill the threshold, moving faster than human sight, weapons drawn, eyes burning. Malachi is first, Aaron a blade’s width behind him, Luca and three others fanning out with lethal precision.

Every single one of them stops dead.

Because Valentin is on the bed, half upright now, one hand braced on the destroyed headboard, the other clawing at his own chest, eyes blazing with a command that flattens the room. ‘Do. Not.’

The words are spoken aloud this time. Barely. But they hit like thunder.

Malachi blinks, face stark with a fear I never expected to see on him. ‘Sire.’

Valentin’s gaze drags to him and the effort looks like agony. ‘She…’ His teeth clench. ‘…lives.’

Malachi’s stare snaps to me, filled with hatred, suspicion and horror. And something worse beneath all three. The understanding that his sire has just spent the last of his conscious strength protecting me.

I pull the sheet tighter around myself and lift my chin, because if this is the moment I get torn apart by loyal sired vampires, I refuse to look like prey.

Aaron’s narrowed gaze moves from my throat to the blood at my mouth as Valentin snarls.

The sound is weak compared to before, but the room obeys it. Every vampire lowers his gaze by an inch.

Then he collapses again.

This time, the mark does not go dark.

It spreads.

A thin line of crimson-black crawls up the side of his throat.

Malachi makes a sound like he’s been stabbed. Aaron moves, controlled and swift, giving me a wide berth as he reaches the bed. Luca follows, swearing under his breath.