Page 18

Rocky

Sleep was a joke lately.

Every damn time I closed my eyes, there she was, laughin’, dancin’ in the back of my skull like a damn fever dream. Birdie with her smart mouth, her soft skin, her scent like sunshine and honeysuckle. I didn’t just want her. I needed her. My wolf paced inside me, snarlin’ for the taste of her, the mark, the claim.

I couldn’t do it. Not yet.

She’d said “hell no” to the idea of becomin’ one of us, and I wasn’t the type to beg. Even if every inch of me—man and monster alike—was fightin’ to ignore those words.

The second my shift ended, I rode straight for the Wild Dog. I’d told myself it was just to check in, maybe grab a drink, shoot the shit. But truth was, I needed to see her. Make sure she was still breathin’. Still mine, even if she didn’t know it yet.

The clubhouse was loud for a weekday, too loud. Bikers milled around, drinkin’ early, whisperin’ low. They always did that when shit was about to go sideways. I knew the source of it. Birdie. Her presence among us, her knowledge of our true nature, had unsettled the delicate balance us officers maintained.

The shifters knew and the other members felt something was off .

And there she was. Back near the pool table, laughin’ with Eliza, that soft Southern twang of hers curlin’ around every damn syllable. I wanted to wrap her up, bite down, claim what was mine. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Not until she truly understood what that meant and wanted it.

“Birdie!” I barked.

She looked up with a half-smile, half-wince. “Rocky. What’s got your furry panties in a twist today?”

I didn’t crack, not visibly. But inside, somethin’ loosened just hearin’ her voice. “Need a word. Alone.”

Eliza gave her a look and made herself scarce.

“What’s up?” Birdie asked, arms crossin’ under her chest like she was expectin’ a lecture.

I opened my mouth, about to tell her somethin’ dumb like, don’t go outside alone , when the door creaked open behind us.

And hell walked in.

He was huge. Built like a fuckin’ tree trunk and wearin’ a smug like it was stitched into his goddamn skin. My nose wrinkled before my brain caught up.

Bear.

The fuckin’ scent hit me like rot. Wrong. Garbage juice and blood gone sour. Every hair on my neck stood up.

He scanned the room like he owned it, zeroed in on Birdie, and smiled like a man who’d just found a rabbit cornered in a trap.

“Well, ain’t this a pleasant surprise,” the bastard said, swaggerin’ up like he had a death wish.

I stepped between them, full height, all shoulders and murder. “You’re a long fuckin’ way from wherever your fat ass came from.”

He blinked, all fake surprise. “Just passin’ through, brother. Thought I’d enjoy the local… flavor .”

His eyes slid past me to Birdie again.

Mine.

“Birdie,” I snapped, not even lookin’ back. “Go find Eliza. Now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she bit out.

“Birdie,” I growled low, the kind of sound that shut up full-grown wolves. “Now.”

She huffed like I’d kicked her damn dog, but I heard her boots crunch away.

The bear chuckled, deep and mean. “Aw, come on. I was just gettin’ to know the local talent.”

“Try it again, asshole. See how many teeth you leave with.”

He took another step, like he wanted to test the waters. “She smells like you,” he said, grinnin’. “But she ain’t marked. That mean she’s up for grabs? ”

That did it.

I swung first, caught him right in the mouth. Bone cracked. The clubhouse exploded.

Tables overturned. Bottles shattered. Cheers went up from the brothers who knew how to shut the fuck up and enjoy a good old-fashioned dominance throwdown.

He hit back, hard. Fucker had fists like cinderblocks. My vision sparked red, but I didn’t stop swingin’. I wanted him to bleed. I wanted him to know he’d made the worst fuckin’ mistake of his life.

“You ain’t welcome here,” I snarled, slammin’ him into the wall hard enough to rattle the Wild Dog’s bones.

He grinned through a bloodied lip. “You gonna cry, pup?”

“Gonna rip your fuckin’ throat out, see how funny you are with your windpipe on the floor.”

We went down hard, fists, elbows, knees. The bear tried to use brute strength, but I fought dirty. Fast. Vicious. Like a wolf backed into a corner. He got a few good shots in, split my lip, bruised my ribs, but I drove him into the floor and straddled his chest, hand at his fat throat.

My claws itched to break free. I wanted to shift and tear into him.

Then I heard Knox.

“ Rocky. That’s enough.”

I didn’t let go right away. My fingers tightened around the bear’s windpipe.

“Rocky!” he barked again.

Reluctantly, I released. Stood. Breath heaving. Hands stained in someone else’s blood.

The bear wheezed, rubbin’ his throat, still grinnin’ like a lunatic. “Message received,” he rasped, shovin’ to his feet. “But you can’t keep her forever. You know how this works. The council wants answers.”

My fist twitched again. “Message received. Get the fuck out of my town.”

He backed toward the door. “This ain’t over, pup.”

“You’re right,” I muttered. “Next time, I ain’t stoppin’.”

The door slammed behind him. The silence that followed was thick as diesel smoke.

I turned, and there she was.

Birdie.

Eyes wide. Lip trembling. Shock written all over her pretty face.

Goddamn it.