All Chapters of Claimed By The Tyrant Brother : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Thorne's POV Rose and Thorns, that's what we were called. Both of us. Inseparable. She didn't love Caleb as much as she loved me. There's no fucking way. I was hers. And she was mine. Her breathing was shallow, a faint hiss and release through the oxygen mask. I couldn’t look away from her pale face. I’d dreamed of this moment for years, but not like this. Not in this goddamned room that smelled of blood and metal and death. When her eyes reopened, my heart stopped. She smiled faintly. “You did the right thing, Thorne.” Her voice was soft, the kind that carried the weight of every year she had endured. “I’ve always been proud of you, you know that? I heard about you. Aetherion Industries. My boy, the man I always knew you’d become. I knew you weren’t just some rowdy kid I picked up off the streets. I knew.” I swallowed hard, my throat burning. “I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve—” She shook her head weakly. “Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. You gav

Delilah’s POV MONTHS LATER…The hospital room was quiet except for the rhythmic hum of the machine beside me. The gel on my belly felt cold, but I didn’t care. The moment the tiny blur appeared on the monitor, I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt.“Okay,” the doctor said kindly, turning the screen so I could see better. “There’s your little one—perfect heartbeat, perfect size for about four months and a few weeks. Everything looks healthy, Mrs. Weston.”I laughed softly, blinking away tears. “He’s not just perfect, he’s adorable.”I grabbed my phone from the table and pressed the video call button. It took only a few seconds before Thorne’s face filled the screen. His tired, rugged, beautiful in that brooding way that made my heart twist.“Hey,” he said, his voice deep and warm, eyes softening when he saw me. “God, I missed that face.”“Forget my face,” I teased, angling the camera toward the monitor. “Look at this. Isn’t it cute? I mean, it’s small, but look.”He leaned closer to his cam

Delilah's POV Thorne’s answering growl was pure, predatory promise. It rumbled through the humid afternoon air, a delicious threat that coiled low in my belly. I swam backward, my movements clumsy and buoyant with the new weight of my four-month bump, but I didn’t get far.He moved through the water with an easy, powerful grace, closing the distance in a few strong strokes. I squealed, a genuine, breathless sound, as his hands found my waist. He didn’t just pull me to him; he tackled me, plunging us both under the surface in a tumult of bubbles and tangled limbs.We surfaced together, gasping and laughing. Water streamed down his face, beading on his dark eyelashes. His hands were everywhere, possessive and familiar, sliding over the slick skin of my shoulders, down the curve of my back, coming to rest on the swell of my hips. The water made everything feel weightless, my heavy breasts floating, the baby a suspended secret between us. His touch, though, was an anchor. Real. Needy.

Delilah’s POV The smell of chicken soup filled the small kitchen. I carefully spooned some into a bowl, balanced it in my hand, and nudged it toward Aunt Vivian. “Here you go,” I said softly, smiling. “Eat up. You need your strength.” She grinned, “Delilah, you are the best. Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re an angel sent straight to me.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m no angel, Aunt. But I do make a mean soup.” She leaned forward, snatching the spoon from my hand with surprising dexterity. “Oh, nonsense. You’re perfect. You’re everything anyone could hope for.” I smiled, watching her nibble, and felt a strange warmth spreading through my chest. This is why I put up with everything—the exhaustion, the fear, the weight of all the chaos outside this tiny bubble. For moments like this, with her laughing and safe, nothing else exists. I wiped a bit of soup from her chin with the back of my hand and tilted my head. “Aunt… can I ask you something serious?”

Delilah’s POV I let out a shaky laugh, the sound breaking against the rain, but it was lighter this time. My body relaxed against him, and I finally allowed myself to breathe. “I… I want to believe that,” I murmured, voice muffled against his chest. He kissed the top of my head, letting me rest there, soaking wet and trembling, but somehow safe. “You are that,” he said softly, and I could feel every word in my chest. “I’ll remind you every day if you forget. We’ll face this together. You don’t have to carry a single thing alone ever again.” The rain hammered down on us like a thousand tiny fists, drenching every inch of my body as Thorne and I hurried along the slick sidewalk. Because of the rain, the fabric clung to my skin like a second layer, translucent and revealing the outline of my hardening nipples. Water cascaded over my face, mixing with the mascara that must have been running in black streaks down my cheeks, but I didn't care. Thorne's hand gripped mine tightly