Page 3 of Mystic's Sunrise

Adly raised a brow. “You done hiding yet?”

I didn’t answer. Just stepped back and let them in.

Inside, the silence stretched like it owned the place. Adly paced a little, taking in the dark room like it offended him. Calder dropped onto the edge of the couch and looked at me like he could see every crack, every fracture I thought I’d buried.

“We came to give you a kick in the ass,” Calder said. “You look like hell, brother.”

Adly nodded. “You need something to belong to again. Something that matters.”

“Brotherhood,” Calder added. “One that doesn’t care about scars.”

I stayed quiet, throat tight—because part of me wanted to scream that nothing mattered anymore.

That the damage ran too deep, too damn far.

But a smaller part—buried under the wreckage and ruin—wanted to believe they were right. Wanted to believe I wasn’t just wasting oxygen.

Adly clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You got a choice, Kain. You can keep dying slow in this tomb… or you can ride with us. Find something real again.”

I looked past them, toward the door. The sun was spilling across the pavement like it hadn’t forgotten me. Maybe it was time I stopped forgetting myself.

What the fuck did I have to lose?

I was already dead.

Or at least felt like it.

So I grabbed my jacket. Followed them outside. Pulled the cover off my motorcycle and straddled it for the first time in years.

The leather creaked beneath me. The engine coughed, then roared like it remembered me. Like it had been waiting.

The road to the clubhouse wasn’t new to me. I used to crash with Chain after my parents died. His old man was a club member. Back then, the place felt loud. Dangerous. Untouchable.

Now it looked like the only thing still breathing while the rest of the world slept.

I hesitated on the porch.

Chain glanced back. “Still thinkin’ you don’t belong?”

“Yeah,” I muttered.

Devil stepped closer. “You got two eyes that don’t match, and a face and body that tell a story no one wants to hear. You belong with us more than you ever did out there.”

Chain smirked. “We used to call you Mystic behind your back. Thought you could see shit the rest of us couldn’t. Now it fits damn perfect with those eyes.”

I didn’t smile, but something in my chest shifted. A breath I didn’t know I’d been holding finally let go.

Maybe it wasn’t about being normal.

Maybe it was about finding the place where being broken didn’t mean being alone.

I pushed the door open.

And I walked in—not whole, not healed, but willing.

CHAPTER TWO

PROLOGUE