Claimed (Blood Ties Book 6)

Oh God.

I rolled over in bed, closed my eyes, and swallowed.

Then I swallowed again.

And again.

I was going to be sick.

I wrenched open my eyes and shot out of bed, stumbling for the bathroom. Acid hit the back of my throat as I shoved my head over the toilet and gagged. My belly clenched, upending what little there was…it was mostly air. But even expelling that felt better.

Did I eat something bad? I lifted my head, swiped the dribble from my mouth, and slowly straightened. My days were a blur of rage and desperation. Empty house after empty house, desolate building after desolate building. That’s all I remembered. I could hardly think about which assholes connected to The Order we’d beaten and threatened, let alone what I’d eaten last night for dinner. Still, I tried.

Some kind of steak and vegetables Guild cooked for us? I think…or was that the night before?

No…

No, that was definitely last night.

Maybe that was it? Maybe the meat had turned.

But as soon as the thought entered my head, I shook it away. There was no way Guild would serve up foul meat for us to eat. That man was careful in the most excruciating way while looking after us. Even after the chef had left and never came back, we’d never eaten a single unhealthy or imperfect meal.

Guild made sure of that. Even if he cooked with a gun on the counter.

My belly tightened again, making me wince. I jerked my head to the side and slammed my hand on top of the cold ceramic tank as I retched. Jesus, whatever it was…this was bad.

I heaved and heaved, burping and coughing, until at last the roller coaster in my belly slowed, finally letting me rise to go to the sink and reach for the faucet. Even the cold water tasted weird as I washed my mouth, swished, then spat. I lifted my gaze to the mirror, then grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste and scrubbed.

It was the stress. That’s what it was.

The stress of everything.

How many days had it been now?

Not days. I froze, the brush pressed against my molars. It was weeks.

Weeks without him. Weeks without knowing if he’s even alive. I closed my eyes, rocking on my feet. My belly swished, then settled. Even nausea took a backseat to my fucking heart ripping in two.

We were still searching. Still hunting, day after day.

But the nights…the nights were the cruelest of all.

My body clenched. My breath caught.

Even my pulse sped, remembering how many times we’d fucked.

It wasn’t love, what we were doing. No matter how many times I wanted to tell myself it was.

How could it be when our hearts were gone?

No heart. No love. There wasn’t even air when Colt was gone.

I closed my eyes, gripped the sink, and bowed my head. Please, God, give him back to me.

Tears welled and slipped free. I’d give anything, do anything. I’d suffer any pain, just to hold him once more. To feel those hands on my skin and his lips on mine. Throw me back in that dark dungeon at The Order. Throw me to the guards for all I cared. It wouldn’t matter. I’d go gladly.

But this…

This not knowing.

This emptiness was killing me.

No. It was killing us.

I lifted my head, pulled the toothbrush free, and rinsed. Maybe that’s all it was? Just stress. Just a broken fucking heart. I stepped to the towel bar, grabbed the plush blood-red fabric, and wiped my mouth, hitting my breast as I straightened. An ache bloomed, making me wince.

Oww.

I looked down, dropped the towel back on the bar, and gently cupped the swell of my breast. Fuck, that hurt. I yanked up the top of my pajamas and looked down, searching for a bruise. But there was none. I cupped my other breast and caught my breath. That was just as sore. Almost like I was getting my—

Period.

I froze. My pulse booming. My damn period. I tried to count the weeks. It had been weeks. Lots of weeks. Panic filled me as I tried to remember how many exactly it’d been since I’d had my last one. The one where Colt had thought London had hurt me.

It was over a month…

It was over two weeks now that he’d been gone.

Six weeks since my last period. Maybe even more.

Gonna put a baby in you, pet. London’s growl pushed into my head. By the time I’m done with you, they’ll know…they’ll all fucking know. Who. You. Belong. To.

They’d been just words to me. Just desire. Just his consuming way of possessing me. But now. Now, they felt real. I clenched gently, finding that deep tender ache. Still, I couldn’t say anything. Not now. They’d treat me differently. London would. Carven would, for sure. I needed to be the same for them. The same hunter, the same Wildcat.

Even if I said nothing, I had to be sure.

But how? It wasn’t as though I could ask either of them to run to the drugstore, and there was no way London was letting me near any of his cars again. So, what? I walk there. It can’t be over ten miles to any kind of store and I sure as hell can’t call an Uber.

I needed someone I could trust. Someone who would get me what I needed. I needed…

Guild. Guild would get it for me.

But would he go to London? He was loyal to him, that I knew. Loyal to a fault. But he also wasn’t a lapdog. He might…he might help me.

With no other options, I would take that risk.

I left the bathroom behind, dressed in what was becoming my usual attire of black jeans and a long-sleeved black top, before I pulled on my boots and headed out of my bedroom. Nausea followed, especially when the bitter stench of coffee hit me.

I winced, bit down on my lip, and headed into the kitchen, to find Guild standing over the machine. He lifted his head, glancing over his shoulder as I strode into the kitchen. “Fresh brewed. Ready for a cup?”

I winced, shaking my head and earning myself a scowl.

“No?”

I stopped at the edge of the counter. “No, thank you. I can’t…”

He turned abruptly, concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

My pulse spiked, making me tremble. I held my breath, glanced over my shoulder at the doorway of the kitchen, and strained to hear London or Carven before I turned back. “If I asked you to do something for me, could I trust you not to tell London or Carven?”

He scowled. “It would depend on what you’re asking me to do. Is there someone causing you problems?”

“What? No,” I whispered, my mind drifting to that little bean inside me. If I was indeed pregnant. “I mean, not really. I just…”

This wouldn’t work. I couldn’t be sure. Not really sure. “You know what?” I murmured. “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

I turned away, my stomach sinking.

“Hey,” Guild growled softly. He grabbed my arm before I knew it, easing me around to face him. His dark brown eyes searched mine. “What’s going on?”

Stupid. Goddamn. Tears. They blurred his face. “It’s nothing.” I tried, my voice husky.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”

I shook my head. The words I was desperate to say sat rock hard in the back of my throat.

“Tell me.”

I shook my head.

“Vivienne.”

I met his stare. “Can I trust you?”

I was pushing him into a corner. One where I was asking him to divide his loyalties.

“Will this piss London off?” he asked.

I gave a shrug. “Probably.”

“Could this be dangerous to you if I don’t do it?”

I thought about that, about the buildings we invaded and the men we fought. One punch to the stomach, that’s all it’d take. I answered the only way I could. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll do it. Pissing London off is one thing, but if this could cause you harm, then I won’t have that. What do you need, honey?”

I held his gaze and, using all the courage I had, whispered the words I was terrified to use. “I need a pregnancy test.”

His eyes widened before he lowered his gaze. “Preg—”

I slammed my hand over his mouth, muffling the words. “Shhh.” My eyes darted to the doorway as I listened for any sound in the hall. “Not so loud, okay?”

He gave a nod, his breath hot against my fingers before I removed them. Here was a man easily twice my size, who probably had more kills than I’d had hot dinners to his name, letting me shush him.

“You need a…” He started slowly, keeping his voice low.

“Yes.”

“Now?”

One brow rose. “Well, the sooner you get it, the sooner I can know for sure.”

I’d never seen him move so fast, turning around to stride from the kitchen in a heartbeat.

“Guild?” I heard London call from his study. “Guild!”

“I’m busy! I’ll be back soon. I need a…a turnip!”

I didn’t dare move as the creak of London’s chair came before the heady thud of his steps. “What the fuck?” His growl reached me in the kitchen from the hallway. “I don’t even like turnips.”

How long did a damn trip to the drugstore take?

I paced the floor of my bedroom, casting glances toward the door. I’d avoided London by telling him I wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t elaborate.

The heavy thud of footsteps out in the hallway drew my gaze. They were too fast to be London’s…unless he’d found out.

Oh, shit.

I steeled myself for the onslaught as the handle of my bedroom door turned. But Guild stepped in with a brown paper bag clutched in his hand and closed the door behind him. I let out a pent-up breath, feeling myself deflate.

“They looked at me strangely,” he offered. “So I had to tell them it was for my wife.”

“Your wife?”

He gave a shrug, his cheeks turning bright red. I thought of Guild saying those words for someone he truly loved one day and my chest swelled with pride. I hoped one day he had that.

“Thank you.” I moved forward and grasped the bag from his hand.

But he just stood there, looking awkward.

“What?”

He gave a shrug, then glanced toward the bathroom.

“You want to wait?” I hissed.

I could see in his eyes he was dying to know. But then he shook his head. “Be safe, Vivienne.” He turned and went to the door, then stopped with his hand on the handle. “Just know, whatever you need. Whatever that costs me, you can always come to me.”

Damn if that wasn’t the sweetest thing he’d ever said to me. With my heart in my throat, I gave a nod and watched him leave the room. When the quiet thud of the door came, I turned for the bathroom.

My hands were shaking as I pulled the box free, then the test from the packet. Reading the instructions, I tugged off the end, adjusted myself over the toilet, and aimed for the end.

Seconds felt like hours. I placed the test on the basin, unable to stop my hands from shaking. I didn’t pray, because I didn’t know what to pray for.

Negative.

Positive.

It didn’t matter. But as I stood there watching the faint line on the test, I knew I was lying.

It mattered.

It mattered very much.