Claimed By My Stepbrother novel Chapter 110

Chapter 110

Camila POV

The sound of the doorbell–or whatever the hell that ancient ding was supposed to be ripped through the stillness of the mansion like a knife through already–thin nerves. My body tensed up so hard I probably looked like someone had poured a bucket of ice water down my back. Every part of me screamed danger, even though logically, it could’ve just been a damn delivery guy or something. But nothing about my life lately had been logical, and my gut wasn’t exactly in the mood to pretend.

I didn’t move. Not immediately.

Then I felt it–Ethan’s hand on my shoulder. Warm. Solid. Heavy in that way that made me feel like I wasn’t completely alone in this horror show of a life. I hadn’t even realized I was shaking until his fingers tightened gently, like a quiet ‘I got you.”

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His touch lingered for just a second more, then left me.

And… okay. I hated how fast that warmth disappeared. Like the second he stepped away, I could feel cold wind whip into the empty space he left behind. It was stupid. Embarrassing even. The urge to grab his hoodie and yank him back was so strong my fingers curled like they were about to do it all on their own. Don’t leave me.

But I didn’t move. Because… pride.

Pride was all I had left after everything. After last night, after the massacre, the blood, the fucking revelation that I was apparently only safe if I had sex with this creepy werewolf stalker. Cool. Totally normal life. I stood my ground like a good little brave girl and followed him–but only halfway.

I kept to the shadows of the hallway, watching as Ethan strolled toward the front door like he hadn’t just slathered someone’s intestines all over the floor a day ago.

I peeked through the dusty–ass curtains of the window beside the door, careful not to let my head be too obvious. And what I saw made something sour bubble up in my throat.

A girl.

She stood there like she belonged, smile stretched wide across her too–perfect face, like this was her house and she was just dropping by to bless us with her fucking presence. She had that annoyingly soft look–like a fairy–tale extra. Long auburn hair she kept tucking behind her ears in that I–don’t–know–I’m–hot way. Dressed in tight jeans and a white sweater. Her cheeks were flushed, like she’d been running or maybe just giddy to see him.

I narrowed my eyes, leaning in closer.

What the hell was she saying?

Her mouth was moving, words pouring out like sunshine and rainbows. I could tell from the stupid giggle she let out mid–sentence.

But the worst part–the absolute, soul–stabbing/worst part–was that I couldn’t see Ethan’s face.

He was facing her. His back to me. Broad shoulders relaxed. Hands in his pockets. And that tilt of his head… that was a smile, wasn’t it? It had to be. He was fucking smiling at her. The same way he smiled at me with that mix of quiet obsession and gentle threat, like I was the most important thing he had ever looked at. He was giving that smile to her.

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I didn’t even realize I was grinding my teeth until I felt my jaw ache. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I care? It’s wanted Ethan. I didn’t even like the guy. He was creepy, blood–covered, and probably clinically insane. But also, he was mine. Sort whole mate thing was supposed to be special, wasn’t it? And now he was out there looking like some tragic anime boy giving flirty smiles to giggling forest nymphs?

I wanted to scream.

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Chapter 110

Instead, I crossed my arms and leaned harder against the window frame like that might somehow keep nie from throwing, it p demanding to know who the fuck she was.

God, was she touching him now? Her hand had come up–brushing her hair again or maybe reaching for his arm. And Ethan, ha didn’t

move away.

Jealousy isn’t even the right word. It was this weird, twisted blend of fury and humiliation. Like I was the one outside the window, peeking. into a life that didn’t include me. And the fact that I cared–that it burned–made me even angrier.

I stepped back from the window before I did something stupid, like go out there and bite her myself.

The house felt colder now. Like even its walls were judging me for how ridiculous I felt. I backed away slowly, turning around and trying to collect myself. I told myself it didn’t matter. That I didn’t care. That if Ethan wanted to flash his murder–boy smile at some random girl, it was

his business.

But the lie tasted bitter.

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