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Birdie

Six Months Later

There was something about that night that just didn’t sit right with me.

Maybe it was the full moon sitting too low in the sky, watching the world like it knew something the rest of us didn’t. Maybe it was the stillness in the air, too quiet for Tennessee. The cicadas weren’t singing. Even the damn frogs had shut up.

Or maybe… it was the way my skin itched from the inside out.

Like my body was begging to be something else.

“Birdie!” Eliza’s scream snapped me outta my haze like a gunshot.

I flew down the hall of the Wild Dog, nearly breaking the door to the back room. Eliza was bent over the side of the bed, grip tight on the frame, her face pale and glistening with sweat.

“I think it’s time!” she gasped, her voice cracked with pain.

My mouth went dry. “Okay! Okay, uh. Where’s Knox?”

“Eliza,” Knox’s voice boomed as he barreled through the doorway, eyes wide with panic. “I’m here. I’m here, baby. ”

Eliza glared at him. “You—left—for—a—call—”

“I’m sorry!” he said, scrambling to her side, hands everywhere and nowhere at once. “You’re doin’ so good.”

I hovered awkwardly by the dresser, feeling more useless than a screen door on a submarine. I was supposed to be the support here, her coach, her best friend, but I didn’t expect it to come on so fast.

Thankfully, five minutes later, Smokey’s cousin Loretta burst in like a damn angel with boots and a birth kit, rolling up her sleeves before the door even clicked shut.

“Let’s have a baby,” she said, voice strong as whiskey.

The next few hours blurred together. Eliza screamed. Knox whispered sweet nothings. I paced the room, fetching towels and water and wanting to crawl outta my own skin with nerves.

Just past midnight, the room went quiet.

Then a tiny cry shattered the silence.

I turned and saw Loretta lift a slippery little bundle into the air, and for one split second, I swear to God, that baby shimmered. Like light bent around her. Like she didn’t quite belong to just this world.

Tiny fox ears flicked into existence for half a heartbeat, and just like that, they were gone.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“She’s perfect,” Knox choked, holding his daughter like the world had just handed him the stars .

Eliza looked like she’d been through hell and come out with heaven in her arms. “Willow,” she murmured, barely a whisper. “Her name’s Willow.”

I cried. Full-on, no shame, tears rolling down my cheeks like someone’d busted a pipe. I didn’t even know why, just that it felt like we were all witnessing a miracle.

“I’ll give you some space,” I said, backing toward the door.

Knox nodded, his eyes never leaving Eliza or the baby. “Thank you, Birdie.”

Out in the main room, the Wild Dog was buzzing. Word had spread. Members were pouring in from the yard, old ladies bringing food, a couple of the boys passing around celebratory shots.

Rocky was out by the firepit, his cut tossed over his shoulder, boots scuffed and hands in his pockets. The second he saw me, he straightened.

“She alright?” he asked.

“She’s a damn warrior,” I said, feeling my throat catch. “And the baby… she’s different.”

Rocky’s expression softened. “Born shifter?”

I nodded. “Ears and everything. Only for a second.”

He let out a low whistle, then pulled me in, arms firm around me. “You did good bein’ there.”

I didn’t tell him how I’d nearly fainted. Or how I’d wanted to run. But I stayed. And I’d stay again.

Because they were my people now. Whether I was ready or not.

The fire pit had been moved out back near the tree line, and most of the club had gathered in a loose circle. Villain stood off to one side with a box of new cuts in his hands, smirking like the devil himself.

Knox stepped up onto a makeshift platform, his new daughter Willow held tight in Eliza’s arms beside him. He looked like a man reborn, stronger somehow, grounded.

“This club was built on loyalty,” he said, voice strong and sure. “But loyalty ain’t blind. We’ve all seen what the Royal Bastards has become. More lies than law, more secrets than brotherhood. Hell, the President didn’t even have the decency to speak to me himself. We deserve better. Our families deserve better.”

A low murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

“We ain’t Royal Bastards no more,” Knox said. “Not in our hearts. And after tonight, not in name either.”

Villain stepped forward and opened the box, liftin’ a fresh leather cut embroidered in bold silver and black.

Bastard Sons MC

“Tonight, we burn the past,” Knox said, holdin’ up his old cut, the Royal Bastards Mc patch heavy with history. “We’re family. And that ain’t ever gonna change. We’re takin’ family with us. And we ride into the future together. Free. ”

One by one, the brothers stepped forward. They peeled off their old colors and tossed them into the fire. The leather curled and blackened, flames lickin’ up years of memories and mistakes. I watched Smokey’s shoulders relax like he’d dropped a weight he didn’t know he’d been carryin’.

Smokey and Chevy stood side by side, as they burned their old patches. Loretta was there too, along with a few of the ol’ ladies, each of them takin’ the time to say goodbye to the name they once followed.

When it was Rocky’s turn, he looked at me.

“You ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

Together, we stepped forward and tossed his old cut into the fire.

Flames crackled loud in the silence that followed. One by one, fresh cuts were handed out. The emblem of the Bastard Sons gleamed under firelight like blood and ash, like everything we’d been through had branded us into somethin’ new. Somethin’ forged.

Rocky slipped his arms through the sleeves of his new cut, rolled his shoulders like it finally sat right. When Villain handed him mine, I blinked down at it, same colors, same fierce embroidery, but instead of an officer patch, mine said: