Possession (A Captive to Claim Book 3)

POSSESSION A Captive To Claim: Book III by Samantha Madisen Table of Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Epilogue Copyright 2023 by Samantha Madisen All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Published by Samantha Madisen and Thirteenth Line Publications Madisen, Samantha Captive Cover design by Samantha Madisen Images by Depositphotos/stetsik, Depositphotos/tverdohlib.com CHAPTER 1 Alena I know him, Alena. So if you want this, then do exactly what I say. Black's words echoed in my mind, almost like he was whispering them right into my ear. I could feel the heat of his body, his solid muscle just behind me, brushing against my back, when the door to Rhys's room opened. He was there, and he would protect me. I may not have been sure of anything else, but I was sure of that. Just moments before, I had been certain of my decision and my ability to carry it out. Maybe that was because Black, with his serious voice whispering into my ear, had made the impossible seem possible. Not just possible, but inevitable and easy. The way Black talked about Rhys, he made it sound like Rhys was a man I shouldn't fear at all. Black made it sound like Rhys was a man I could control completely. You have complete power over him, Black had murmured against my skin. His breath was warm, tickling my neck. Just like you have complete power over me. It might have been the most ridiculous and improbable thing anyone had ever said to me: that I, a small-framed female from ATDC, could have any power over a man like Rhys. Or even Black. It seemed ridiculous now, standing in front of the door to Rhys's room. But when Black said things to me like that, his body touching mine, his arms solid and impossibly strong around me, I simply believed them. Black had power over me: a power to calm, a power to convince. A power to get me to say, with total conviction, that I was going to go to Rhys - their powerful, dominating, intimidating alpha - and turn the tables on him. But if Black had that kind of power over me, Rhys had even more. I leaned back against Black, involuntarily, when the door opened and Rhys was standing just behind it. He had known we were coming; his face registered no surprise to see me, or Black, standing there. His eyes moved over my body briefly, and then met mine. Black walked his fingers up my spine, pushing me gently forward. Black didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. It wasn't until that moment, caught in Rhys's penetrating stare, that I realized how much Black was risking by telling me to do all these things. He was plotting against Rhys, which was a dangerous game if it didn't pan out - not for me, so much, but definitely for Black. Black had convinced me that the worst thing that could happen to me if this plan failed was that I could be put back into stasis. Since that was going to happen anyway - if I didn't do anything - my risk was pretty much nothing. It was a "no-brainer," Black had told me. And it had truly, truly seemed like it was. Sure, the plan could fail in more ways than I could count, but it didn't seem that way at the time. Until I was right in front of Rhys, his power radiating through my skin, turning my insides to liquid mush, making it hard to breathe. I was suddenly too weak to move, afraid to even try. Black's fingers, though, reminded me: he was willing to risk everything for me. To have me, to keep me with them. And that was what I wanted. Wasn't it? I faltered, and then I remembered my life in ATDC: cold, sterile, never feeling anything like what I felt for Rhys, or Black. Or even Doc, and Scar, and even Tor. Never to feel another man grip my waist and fill me with his seed, never to come again at the touch of a man's fingers, or mouth. Never to feel love. Their kind of love: carnal, wild, primal, all-encompassing. That was more terrifying than what I had to do, however much fear I had of doing it. I know him, Alena, I heard Black saying, a voice inside my head giving me strength. I steeled myself and stepped forward, into Rhys's room. "She asked to come," Black said, from behind me. Rhys lifted his gaze, over my head, and something was exchanged between the two of them silently. It was almost as terrifying - in its intensity - as the near-fight I had witnessed between Black and Tor earlier. As they exchanged this tense look, I was suddenly adrift again. I was swallowed by the full force of the knowledge that I didn't know or understand anything about these men, about what made them work. I was in no position to be attempting to manipulate one of them. I had said as much to Black back in the dark, abandoned corridor. He had shaken his head slowly. "You don't get it," he said. "I know the man." He had stroked my hair, and kissed my forehead. "And I know you. You aren't lying, Alena, if you tell him you love him." This had cut deep: he was right, and I knew it. I didn't want to love Rhys. I didn't want to have feelings for two men, and I didn't want to have to admit to Black that I did. Because what