Claimed By My Alpha Stepbrother.

2.

AZRIEL

It was rare that anything shocked me in my life, but as the torrent of rain pelted down on our heated bodies, a single flash of lightning allowed me to see the look of terror in the beautiful girl’s eyes. I also noticed her lip was split. Some asshole had hit her. She was running, trying to escape.

I was a violent, dangerous man, my penchant for bloodshed adding to my heinous reputation. What I couldn’t tolerate in my life was violence toward a woman and children. Under any circumstances. I had far too much respect for a beautiful feminine creature and that came from my relationship with my mom.

However, the girl was either nuts or had a death wish jumping out in front of a moving vehicle in the middle of a raging thunderstorm.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I barked. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“I…” Her entire face froze. Then a venomous look darkened her features. “f**k you. You were driving like a maniac!”

“Excuse me?” I c****d my head and the defiance I could see in the glow of the dome light was unbelievable.

“Just let me go, you jerk!” Her mouth twisted, but I kept my hold.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. Now, you heard me. Spill it or I’ll leave you right here on the side of the road. Now, do you need my help or not?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Help you do what, little one? Who did this to you?”

I scanned the area before returning my attention toward her. Even though her clothes were soaked, I could easily tell she was dressed for a party or a festive event, the stunning silver dress highlighting every voluptuous curve.

She was also young, an innocent flower who’d appeared out of the shadows as if an angel of mercy. She couldn’t have come from a far place, especially since her feet were bare and the road was pavement.

Given I was in a protected area of exotic housing the most powerful, influential, and ruthless families in the entirety of Sin City, that likely meant either her family or someone she was visiting was equally as wealthy and dangerous. Even the Hiltons didn’t compare to the number of notorious people the neighborhood held. The girl was someone of importance. Or she was being used would be my guess.

I’d say she was the daughter of someone important, the necklace she wore worth a cool half million. That didn’t mean she came from a loving home. What went on behind closed doors was certainly the things horror novels were written about.

“I need to get away from here.” Her pleading tone dragged at the beast inside of me.

The girl was trying very hard to maintain a calm composure, which I admired. The fact she didn’t want to share who’d done this to her meant she was in partial shock.

I returned my gaze, cognizant the storm was right over us. What the f**k was I supposed to do with this?

My gut told me not to get involved, but the primal savage inside of me said something else altogether.

“I’m sorry. I’m just scared,” she added.

“Get in the car,” I commanded.

She offered a slight smile yet didn’t move. It was obvious she was paralyzed by fear. I reached inside the car, unlocking the passenger door then walking her around the front of the vehicle, easing her onto the seat. Hell, I wasn’t a gentle man, but she was teetering on the same kind of edge I was.

After she was safely settled inside, I headed to my trunk, popping it open. I always carried an emergency bag of supplies including several dry towels, although their anticipated use was for cleaning up my injured self when it happened, not drying off a damsel in distress.

I knew I could be making a very bad decision, but at this point I didn’t give a s**t. As soon as I jumped onto the driver’s seat, I tossed the towel into her lap, shutting the door then taking a deep breath. There were no headlights from oncoming vehicles, but it was a matter of time before someone came looking for her.

“I want answers. Who are you running from?”

“I…” She nuzzled her face into the towel, and I rapped my fingers on the leather console under the driver’s window.

The girl remained quiet, which was as unnerving as the situation. I leaned back against the seat, wiping water from my face with the other towel.

“Spill it, little one. What the hell is going on?”

When she continued to remain silent, I turned my head, the overhead streetlight providing a more than decent look at her face.

A bruise was starting to form under her eye where she’d been hit. Rage tore through me. She was shivering and I watched as she dragged her tongue across her lower lip, digging the tip into the area where it had been split.

Sighing, I turned up the heat, trying to keep my patience with her. A full two minutes passed.

“Talk, little one. I’m not a patient man. By all rights I should punish you right here and right now.”

“Punish me? Are you out of your mind? And I’m not little one. Don’t call me that. Ever.” Even though she whispered the few words, her tone was defiant. “My guess is you’re just another one of them.”

Them.

The single word had left a nasty taste in her mouth.

“Hmmm… The little fawn has claws. Then what are you? Did you escape from a mental institution?”

She snorted and I laughed softly. A single moan slipped past her lips and I wanted to crush the person who’d hurt her.

“O-kay. Did your boyfriend do that to you?” When she tensed, I could tell I was on the right track.

“No,” she said softly, glancing at her lap as if embarrassed.

I shifted in my seat, gently sliding my hand under her chin and turning her head. Her eyes opened wide, so doe-like that my c**k twitched. She was insanely beautiful, my balls tightening.

“A crush?”

Her eyes opened even wider than before, fear tearing through them. Motherfucker. What kind of man hits a woman?

“Where is he? I’ll take care of him for you,” I told her, meaning every word.

“No!” She clawed at me as she’d done before, leaning in as her eyes searched mine. The scent of her was intoxicating, floral yet mixed with a vibrant hint of vanilla and other spices.

“You can’t do that. He’s dangerous. He’ll hurt you.” Her voice was imploring but not nearly as much as her sultry voice. She was shaking her head slightly, as if a heavy burden would be placed on her shoulders if I dared consider helping her.

I allowed my gaze to fall down the length of her face, concentrating on her plump lips, a mouth I wanted to kiss. It was obvious she had no clue who or what I was. That made the electric connection that much sweeter.

“I assure you, little one, that I would come out victorious.”

“You don’t know who he is. He’ll kill you.”

Chuckling, I folded my fingers, rubbing my knuckles across her cheek as gently as possible. I wasn’t known for my tender touches, my needs crossing into the realm of true sadist years before. But with her, I wanted to be gentle, careful so I didn’t terrify her even more, or cause a single bruise to her lovely skin.

She glared at me through thick eyelashes and for a few seconds I felt powerless, drawn into her beauty like a moth to a flame. That wasn’t a good idea. I wasn't meant to have any weaknesses, but here I was unable to take my eyes off her. As if she’d already become my possession.

“And you don’t know who I am,” I told her.

“Who are you?”

“A dangerous man.”

“Then why do I feel so protected?”