All Chapters of The Blackwell Claim: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

"I won't ever get tired of seeing him break like that," Kan murmured, leaning down to lick the sweat from Timothy’s collarbone.Gideon adjusted Timothy’s weight, pulling him onto his side before finally clicking the steel cuffs open. He didn't pull away entirely, instead hooking a heavy leg over Timothy's hip. He let his fingers linger, tracing the sticky mess of their shared release across Timothy’s skin. "Wore the kid out."Timothy’s breathing was shallow, his eyes half-closed as he drifted into the heavy fog of the aftermath. "Best... ever," he slurred, the words barely audible before his head dropped back against the pillow.Gideon nuzzled into the crook of Timothy’s neck, his fingers making slow, possessive circles on the younger man's hip. "Out like a light."Kan watched them, a rare, sharp tenderness cutting through his usual predatory mask. "Yeah. We lucked out. He’s fucking incredible."Gideon hadn't known what to expect when they finally tracked Timothy down. He’d anticipate

Cus dangled his legs, a bag of gourmet jerky appearing in his hand. He tossed a piece to the Dobermans, Nero and Thrax, who had ghosted into the kitchen behind Kan. The dogs caught the treats with a synchronized snap of their jaws."Would you put a bullet in the Empress to keep Timothy breathing?" Cus asked, his voice a sharp needle in the quiet room.Kan didn't blink. He kept his eyes locked on the small man, his senses expanded, searching for a lie, a hidden weapon, anything. "You part of the rebellion, Cus?"Cus rolled his eyes, the metallic sheen in them swirling. "Why would I bother? Nobody manages a guy like me. Not really."The coffee machine let out a final, sputtering beep. Finally. Kan started opening cabinets, his movements efficient. "You work for Timothy. Isn't that a job description?""Here." Cus shoved a heavy ceramic mug toward him.Kan hadn't seen the man move. One second the counter was bare, the next, the mug was there. He didn't care about the trick; he needed the

Kan’s teeth sank into the junction where Timothy’s shoulder met his neck. Timothy’s back arched, a jagged gasp escaping him at the sudden, sharp claim. Kan’s fingers hooked under Timothy’s chin, tilting his head back until it hit Kan’s shoulder, keeping him pinned. While his mouth worked against Timothy's skin, Kan reached down, sliding the sleek silicone plug out of Timothy’s heat only to guide it toward the tighter, demanding ring of his tail.Gideon’s low, rumbling growl vibrated against the mattress. The sensation of Gideon’s tongue returning to the folds of Timothy’s groin sent a physical shock through his nervous system. Timothy let out a wrecked moan, and Kan took the opportunity to shove the toy halfway into the new territory. Timothy’s breath hitched, the intrusion stalling his lungs."Easy," Kan rasped, his voice vibrating against the bite mark on Timothy’s throat. He wiggled the toy, stretching the muscle before driving it home. This one didn't vibrate like the first, but t

Timothy’s fingers dug into the edge of the mahogany table, his knuckles turning a bloodless white. Surrendering wasn’t in his DNA. He wouldn’t hand over the Sopttyi District just to avoid a graveyard. Not if his people were the ones filling the coffins."Why?" The word was a jagged piece of glass."As if that’s any of your business." Lucius adjusted his silk tie, his movements slick and arrogant as he moved into the room. "You’re out of your depth, Gal.""And you’re one word away from losing your tongue.""I think it’s time to call it, Timothy." Eleanor Nash didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the dregs of her drink. She offered her brother a look of pure, exhausted disappointment. "We talked about this before and—""We talked about it years ago," Timothy snapped, his chest heaving. "To quit now, when we know Lucius is the one feeding the Saati Town rats... I don’t get your logic, Eleanor. It’s suicide.""Pish-posh. You know I’m no threat to my own blood." Lucius sank into the velvet ar

The Sopttyi District was a smudge of gray in the rearview mirror, and Timothy hadn't looked back once. Grief was a luxury he couldn't afford, not with the weight of two men like Kan and Gideon pressing into his life.Cus was in his element at the Blackwell estate—or "the fortress," as the old soldier called it. Within the first week, Timothy had caught the man actually whistling while he cleaned the armory. The Zions had claimed the thousand-acre perimeter, patrolling the treeline like they’d found holy ground. Timothy had never seen them so at peace.Gideon had insisted on a week of "integration" before the official Blackwell ritual. He wanted Timothy to breathe the same air as the syndicate's inner circle, thinking it would dull the edge of having an audience when things got messy. Honestly, Timothy was just vibrating with the need to show off the marks they’d already left on him. He’d been living with the Blackwell pride for seven days, and the clock for the ceremony was down to mi