Page 12 of Monstrosity (Raiders of Valhalla MC: New Blood #5)

CHAPTER FIVE

Dasha

The main room at the clubhouse is chaotic as all hell, but it's the good kind—the kind that comes from too many people who love each other crammed into one space.

Long tables are set up family-style, riddled with enough food to feed an army.

Which, looking around at all of my brothers and their families, might not be far from the truth.

The smell hits me first—roasted meats, fresh bread, something that might be Starla's famous mac and cheese that Meghan's always raving about.

It's like Thanksgiving, except everyone's wearing leather and there are probably enough weapons in this room to stock a small armory.

"Dasha, honey, pass the potatoes?" The request comes from Charm, one of the older old ladies whose husband is the VP and has been with the club for over thirty-five years.

She's been nothing but welcoming since we arrived, showing me where everything is, introducing me to the other women with a patience that speaks of years of experience bringing new people into the fold.

I pass the bowl, still adjusting to how natural this feels.

Cali is on my right, enthusiastically describing her day to anyone who'll listen, while Florencia sits across from us next to Rio, quietly observing everything with those serious eyes she inherited from her father.

"So," Meghan slides in beside me, bumping my shoulder. "How's your first official family dinner as Rio's ol’ lady?"

"Is that what I am now?" I ask, though the title sends a warm flutter through my chest.

"Girl, you've been his ol’ lady for years. Y'all just finally made it official." She grins. "Welcome to the chaos."

Looking around, I can see what she means.

The room is full of leather-clad bikers, tattooed and dangerous-looking, currently engaged in activities like cutting up chicken nuggets for toddlers and wiping faces.

There's Regnor, who is one of the full patch members, currently making airplane noises to get his stubborn five-year-old daughter, Eira, to eat her vegetables.

Magnus, scarred and intimidating, is patiently braiding his daughter Runa’s hair while she chatters about her favorite Disney princess.

The contrast should be jarring, but instead it's just... normal.

"Daddy, can we stay here forever?" Cali asks, ketchup already smeared on her cheek. "It's like a big sleepover!"

Rio reaches over to wipe her face with practiced ease. "Just for a little while, baby girl. Until some grown-up stuff gets sorted out."

"What kind of grown-up stuff?"

"Boring stuff," he assures her. "Nothing you need to worry about."

"Is it about the bad men?" Florencia asks quietly, and the table goes still for just a moment before conversations resume.

Rio meets her gaze steadily. "What makes you think that, mija ?"

"You only bring us here when there's trouble," she says with that startling insight that sometimes makes me forget she's only eight. "Like when those men were following Uncle Tor last year."

"You're too smart for your own good," Rio says, reaching over to tug her braid gently. "Yes, there are some not-nice people we're dealing with. But you're safe here. Everyone's safe."

Elfe plops down across from us, her plate piled high with enough food for two people.

At twenty-one, she's got her mom Starla's striking features and her dad Ivar's rebellious streak.

The pink streaks in her dark hair catch the light as she settles in. "This is wild, right? Like summer camp but with more weapons."

"Elfe," Starla warns from down the table. "Not in front of the kids."

"What? They know Daddy and Uncle Rio have guns." She winks at my girls. "Bet you two are having fun with all the kids here."

"There's so many!" Florencia says, her earlier seriousness forgotten. "And they all know how to ride bikes already. Kira said her dad's teaching her on a little dirt bike. Can we learn, Daddy?"

"When you're older," Rio says automatically, then catches my eye. "If Dasha says it's okay."

The casual inclusion, the acknowledgment of my role in their decisions, makes my heart squeeze. "We'll see," I tell them, which every parent knows means 'probably not, but I don't want to argue right now.'

"But Dasha," Cali protests, "Kira's only seven and she gets to ride!"

"Kira's not our daughter," I point out. "And she wears so much protective gear she looks like a marshmallow."

I notice the way Rio’s eyes meet mine when I utter the words ‘our daughter’.

She isn’t mine, and neither is her sister, but they feel like they’ve always been mine.

"I'd wear the marshmallow suit," Cali bargains. "Please?"

"We'll discuss it when things calm down," Rio intervenes, giving me a grateful look. "Right now, focus on your dinner."

The meal continues with the comfortable chaos of a large family meal.

I catch snippets of conversation from around the room—Hakon got a girl pregnant, someone else just got a promotion at their legitimate job, a debate about the best route for an upcoming charity ride.

It's all so normal, you could almost forget why we're all here.

Almost.

I watch Rio interact with his brothers, the easy camaraderie mixed with underlying tension.

They're all aware of why we're here, even if they're keeping it light for the kids.

Every so often, I catch meaningful glances exchanged, subtle hand signals I don't understand yet.

"The kids are getting restless," Magnolia observes from down the table.

She's Kraken's old lady, a petite woman with laugh lines and kind eyes who seems to have adopted me when I first came around the club. "Should we do movie night?"

"Movie night!" Several children cheer in unison.

"After baths," Fern says firmly, every bit the matriarch despite being younger than some of the other old ladies. "You know the rules."

"Ladies, let's divide and conquer," Magnolia suggests. "Fern, you and Meghan take the younger ones. Starla, you've got the middle group. I'll help Dasha with her girls since it's their first movie night here."

It's clearly a routine they've done before.

The women efficiently herd children toward various bathrooms while the men clear tables and start moving toward the room they hold kirkja in—their meeting room.

Rio stops me before I can follow the exodus of women and children. "You good?"

"I'm good," I assure him, reaching up to straighten his collar unnecessarily. "Go do what you need to do."

He glances around, then pulls me into a quick, hard kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too. Be safe."

"I'm just going to a meeting, baby."

"Yeah, where you guys plan God knows what," I point out. "My request stands."

He grins, that rare full smile that transforms his face. "Yes, ma'am."

The next hour is devoted to baths and pajamas.

Each one of the rooms upstairs have an en-suite bathroom and we all go to each member’s room.

For example, I’m with the girls in Rio’s room, where Vail goes to Vanir’s with their kids.

Magnolia shows me where they keep extra towels, bubble bath, and the collection of rubber ducks that seem to multiply every time someone looks away.

"You're handling this well," she observes as we wrestle Cali into pajamas.

The five-year-old has decided she's a mermaid and doesn't need clothes.

"Even I need pajamas even if I'm a mermaid," I tell Cali firmly. "Mermaids get cold on land."

"That's true," Cali concedes after a moment of thought. "Ariel needed a dress when she got legs."

"Exactly." I manage to get her into her favorite unicorn pajamas while she's distracted by the logic.

"Not everyone adjusts this quickly," Magnolia continues once Cali runs off to find Florencia. "Some women can't handle the reality of club life when it hits."

"I've had years to see how this world works," I reply, gathering wet towels. "And honestly? The love I see here, the loyalty, the way everyone protects each other... it outweighs the danger."

"That's the right attitude." She pats my shoulder. "Come on, let's get these monkeys settled for movie night."

The media room is set up with blankets and pillows everywhere, creating a giant nest on the floor.

Someone's made popcorn, and juice boxes are distributed with the seriousness of a communion ritual.

The kids pile in, my girls naturally gravitating toward some of the other children they know.

"What are we watching?" Florencia asks, claiming a spot between two older girls who immediately make room for her.

"Moana!" someone calls out.

"We watched that last time," another voice protests. "Let's watch Coco!"

A debate ensues that would rival any UN negotiation.

Finally, Starla makes an executive decision. "Finding Nemo. No arguments."

"But we've seen it a million times," Elfe protests from her spot on one of the couches, beer in hand.

"Then make it a million and one," her mother retorts. "Or you can go to bed early."

Elfe subsides with a dramatic sigh and sticks her tongue out at her mom, but stays put, obviously enjoying the fun the kids are having.

I notice she's got her phone out, texting rapidly with a small smile on her face.

"Boyfriend?" I guess, settling onto one of the couches next to Meghan.

"Something like that," she says evasively. "Dad doesn't know yet, so..."

"Your secret's safe," I assure her.

The movie starts, and within minutes, the younger kids are entranced.

The older ones pretend to be too cool but still watch.

I find myself relaxing for the first time since Rio came home with blood on his neck earlier.

"So," Meghan says quietly, producing a flask from somewhere and adding something to her juice. "Real talk. How are you doing with all this?"

I consider the question seriously. "Honestly? Better than I expected. I mean, I'm terrified about the danger, but... being here, seeing how the club works together, it helps."

"The first time Tor came home bloody, I threw up," she admits. "Not my finest moment."

"When did it get easier?"