All Chapters of Claimed By My Stepbrother : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

232 Chapters

CHAPTER 111: I Wasn’t Done

Blood was still soaking through the hole in my side when I took my first step. Hot. Sticky. Like fire crawling under my skin. But I didn’t stop. I wasn’t done. They thought a bullet was going to stop me? They must’ve sent some intern with a fancy sniper toy. Cute. Stupid. And now, probably regretting the hell out of his life choices, if he had half a brain. I sniffed the air. Gunpowder. Metal. A trace of sweat and fear. Human fear. It’s bitter and sharp, like rotting citrus. My vision blurred for a second from the blood loss, but I wiped it off with the back of my hand and kept going, feet crunching twigs, step by step into the tree line. The bastard was smart, I’ll give him that. He stayed far from the scene, probably watched from the shadows while his buddies died like rats in my jaws. Probably thought he was safe. Probably even felt proud of himself for getting a hit in. But I don’t forget pain. Especially not when I’ve got adrenaline pumping and her scent still cli

CHAPTER 112: Oblivious To It All

I stared at my phone for a long time before calling. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed Greg. The ache in my side from where I got shot was starting to burn in a way I couldn’t ignore. I was still bleeding, the blood soaking into the edge of my shirt. I wasn’t healing fast enough. The bastards had used something new—silver-laced or chemically modified to screw with our regeneration. Whatever it was, it worked. The line clicked, and Greg picked up after two rings. “Hello.” I exhaled and leaned against a tree. “How’s the honeymoon?” “Cut the crap, Ethan. Why are you calling me?” Right. Straight to the point, as usual. “They came again,” I said. “More of them. Twice as many. I took most of them down, but…” I hesitated, pressing a hand to my side. “They’re not backing off, Greg. It’s going to be worse tomorrow.” There was a pause. Not silence—just the sound of his breath and that distant hum of him calculating something. “I knew it would come to this,” he said f

CHAPTER 113: Awfully Close

CAMILLA ~ The bright fucking sun was the first thing I noticed. It jabbed at my eyelids like a rude little brat until I groaned and finally blinked awake. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, and for half a second, my brain short-circuited. Where the hell—? Then it hit me. Ethan’s room. Ethan’s bed. Me. In Ethan’s bed. I sat up way too fast and immediately regretted it as the room tilted for a second. My mouth tasted like stale air. God, I was a mess. I rubbed at my face, the events from last night crashing into me like a tidal wave. I had wandered into his room like a lost puppy and drunkenly accepted his offer to sleep over. And he… he let me stay. No creepy comments. No weird touching. No trying to climb into the bed with me. Just... sleep. Which, considering everything I knew about Ethan — the werewolf, the bloodshed, the stalking, the smiling like a sociopath — was honestly kind of shocking. I swung my legs off the bed, my toes brushing the cold woo

CHAPTER 114: Licked His Lips

I turned, blinking at him. “What?” He was leaning against the counter, his arms folded, head tilted slightly, the corners of his lips curved into something that looked casual but felt... tighter. His eyes didn’t leave mine. That weird little glint was back in them. “Creepy much?” I said, rolling my eyes, but I felt it — the slow creep of heat crawling up my neck. “We are close. She’s my best friend.” He nodded slowly like he was cataloguing that information, filing it away into some mental stalker drawer labeled 'Tessa: threat level moderate'. “You’re blushing,” he added, voice maddeningly calm. I scoffed. “Shut up. I am not.” He said nothing. Just smiled. That tiny little, smug-ass smirk like he knew something I didn’t. I turned back around, and continued eating. It was actually… weirdly peaceful for a second. It felt normal. Like we were normal people sharing breakfast. Except normal people didn’t have murder flashbacks and imprinting conversations and weir

CHAPTER 115: The Kiss

I don’t know what the hell came over me. Either way, before I could stop myself, I reached out and caught his arm. “Ethan,” I said—barely a whisper. He turned, a slow, confused look crossing his face, brows furrowing a bit as he tilted his head. And for a second, I almost let go. Almost said never mind. But I didn’t. I pulled him back. And kissed him. Hard. His breath hitched like I’d surprised him. I kind of surprised myself too. But I didn’t let go—I clenched my fists in the fabric of his shirt, holding him close, too close. His body was solid against mine, warm and steady and way too damn tempting. My mouth moved against his with more hunger than I thought I had in me. Desperate, searching, like my body was doing all the thinking and my brain had gone on vacation. He groaned—deep, low, strained—and his hands flew up to my waist. Then slid around me. A little rough, like he was barely holding himself back. I felt his fingers splay out against the small of my back,

CHAPTER 116: Open The Door

I didn’t know how to leave my room. Like, physically, yeah—I could walk over to the door, twist the knob, and just… go. But mentally? Emotionally? I was glued to the bed, paralyzed under the soft weight of my own thoughts. I didn’t even do anything productive. Not like I picked up a book or decided to clean or rearrange the pile of clothes I’d been pretending wasn’t growing in the corner. Nope. I just sat there. I laid there. I rolled around, covered myself with my blanket, kicked it off, groaned into my pillow, stared at the ceiling fan as it spun in lazy circles like it was mocking me. I wasn’t even sure what time it was anymore. All I knew was that the air in the room felt heavy, like it knew something had happened too. Like even the fucking walls were gossiping about me and Ethan now. God. The memory of the kiss—the way he said “good girl” in that low voice, the way his hands moved like he already knew every inch of me—kept replaying in my head on loop. I pulled the p

CHAPTER 117: Fade Away

As I opened the door, I kept my eyes low, refusing to meet his gaze. My hand was still trembling on the knob, my breath hitching like I’d just run a damn marathon, and the air between us felt like it was thick enough to chew on. I didn’t dare look up at first. Just stared at his chest, at the familiar curve of his shirt. He didn’t say anything right away, and the silence wrapped around us like a freaking blanket I didn’t ask for. But then I made the mistake. I glanced up. And—God. His lips. They were still red. Still swollen. Like a visual echo of what we’d done not that long ago, as if my brain wasn’t already tormenting me enough. I blinked, hoping the image would reset itself, but nope. Still there. Still flushed and bitten-looking. Still Ethan. My cheeks burned hotter than the sun itself. Shit. I whipped my head to the side, focusing instead on the hallway wall like it was the most fascinating thing I’d ever seen. My heart was thumping so loud in my ears I almost

CHAPTER 118: And Soon

ETHAN ~ I didn’t know Camila could be that damn cute. Sure, I knew she was beautiful — I'd known that from the second I laid eyes on her — but cute? That was a different beast altogether. That was a punch straight to the gut, a low blow I wasn’t prepared for. And it hit me hard. I sat there on the edge of the bed, the faint ache of my freshly healing wound throbbing under the bandage. But my mind wasn’t on the pain. No, it was stuck replaying the kiss. Over and over again. I had kissed her on impulse — pure stupid impulse. I couldn’t help it. She was there, all worried and soft, and vulnerable. How the hell was I supposed to resist? But what wrecked me, what completely shattered the thin walls I had around myself, was the fact that she kissed me back. She actually kissed me back. I groaned low in my throat, dragging a hand down my face, remembering the way her lips had pressed against mine — hesitant at first, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed, then firmer, nee

CHAPTER 119: No Tricks

I slipped outside into the cold, crisp air. The night was quieter now. Cleaner. No agency dogs skulking around the trees. No scent of blood and gunpowder in the wind. Just silence. I slid down onto the front steps, phone in hand, waiting for the drop location to come through. Probably some abandoned lot or crumbling gas station off the highway. The text came a few minutes later. 5th and Hollow Creek. 4:30AM. Come alone. I smirked humorlessly. Like I had anyone to bring with me. Pocketing the phone, I leaned back on my elbows and stared up at the stars. They blinked lazily in the sky, indifferent to the mess down here. Camila stirred lightly inside, and my wolf immediately snapped to attention, ears perked. Always her. Always for her. The agency could send an army next time for all I cared. Let them. I’d slaughter every last one of them with my bare hands if that’s what it took. Because Camila wasn’t just a girl to me. She was the air in my lungs. The

CHAPTER 120: Time To Disappear

The drive back felt longer somehow, the bag sitting heavy on the seat next to me, a silent reminder of how close we were cutting this. Every turn of the tires felt like a clock ticking down in my head. Gotta move fast. By the time I pulled into the driveway, the sky was beginning to lighten at the edges, a dirty shade of blue smudging out the black. I killed the engine and stepped out, boots crunching over the gravel. I kept the duffel slung over one shoulder, my other hand resting at my side. Please still be asleep, Camila. I slid the key into the lock and twisted it slowly, easing the door open with barely a creak. I locked the door behind me and moved fast, my boots whisper-quiet on the floorboards. First stop: my room. I dropped the duffel onto the bed and zipped it open with fast, practiced fingers. Inside, nestled among black foam padding, were three small glass vials, each filled with a swirling, smoky liquid the color of storm clouds. The guy had delivered

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