Claimed (Blood Ties #6)

He scowled. “How do you know?”

“Because they were Sons.”

His breath caught as panic flared. “Tell me everything.”

I told him about the orphanage, then the warehouse, and by the time I got to the attack outside the restaurant, London was pacing the room. “You’re not going,” he snapped.

“Not alone, but I will.”

He spun. “No, you won’t.”

“It’s been three fucking days, London!” I roared, stepping closer. “Did you know that? Three fucking days!”

He stopped pacing, looking at me with pure desperation. “I know.”

“Do you?” I snarled, moving closer. “Do you really? Every goddamn minute he’s out there, they’re fucking torturing him! They’re fucking beating him, London. They’re KILLING HIM!”

London flinched as though I’d slapped him.

Vivienne lunged, stepping in between us. Use me…use me…use…me…

I reacted before I knew it, turning on her in an instant. My hands were around her throat, fingers clenching hard enough to shock her…and me. Instinct and pain were in the driver’s seat as I drove her backwards. Still, she never fought me, even when her head hit the wall with a thud.

I stared into her eyes. My breath was a panicked rush.

“Carven!” London roared.

But Wildcat just shook her head, flicking her eyes to London. “It’s okay.” She sucked in panting breaths and turned back to me. “He’s not going to hurt me.”

She never made a move to react. Not even to save herself. That alone triggered something deep inside me. All I saw were those times Colt had taken those beatings meant for me. He’d been just a kid. We’d both been just kids. Still, he’d stepped in front of me time and time again when they came searching for someone in their anger.

He never fought.

Never screamed.

Just stood there until they’d punched him to the ground.

I saw that same look in her eyes now. That same devotion that echoed both in my brother and her. Use me…those words echoed as I lowered my head and kissed her. Her mouth parted, opening wide. Use me…I pushed against her, my hand still gripping her throat.

A moan tore along her throat, raw and primal, as she trembled against my touch. I tore my lips from hers, unable to look her in the eyes. “I want to use you.” The words were out before I realized it. It was too late now. Too late to hold them back. Too late to tether this rage.

“Take her to the room.”

I stilled, then slowly lifted my head.

“Is that what you want, pet?” he asked her.

Those brown eyes were fixed on mine. “Yes.”

“You don’t have to fight us, son,” London urged. “Not here. You need release. Take her to the room. Let her give you what you need.”

My words were husky. “You want that?”

She never looked away. “I’ll let you do whatever you want. My body is yours. Use me.”

Use me.

Those words slammed into me, followed by her look of desire. With a snarl I bent, grabbed her around the thighs, and heaved her over my shoulder. I was heading for the doorway before I stopped. “London…”