Page 4

W e ride back in silence. The wind is loud, whipping against my face to the point it’s painful, but I don’t complain. I know I’ve made a mistake, and I know Talon is furious with me. I shouldn’t have left, but at the same time, I feel so god damned helpless right now. I don’t fit in here, and yet they’re the only people who can help me.

When we finally pull into the compound, it’s nearly dusk.

Talon gets off the bike, not looking at me as he strides towards the clubhouse. People are lingering around, and a few of them stop and look at us, but Talon completely ignores anyone who even attempts to speak to him. He’s making it clear he doesn’t want to talk to anyone, and yet, it doesn’t stop me from calling out even though I know I shouldn’t.

“Talon?”

He pauses, turning and giving me a look that feels like a knife to the heart. “If you want to fuckin’ go back, Nia, do it now, because I’m not about to fuckin’ help someone who doesn’t want to be here. You think I don’t have better fuckin’ things to do?”

I jerk, but a strange sensation of anger washes over me. He’s angry at me? Me? He’s the one who was with another woman. He’s the one who made me feel like crap. I know it’s not fair, but my mouth opens long before my mind catches up. “Because you’ve made it so fucking comfortable for me, haven’t you? What with the woman you were fucking after refusing to kiss me.”

My eyes widen and my mouth parts slightly as I realize what I’ve just said. Horrified, I press a hand over my gaping lips, unable to believe those words actually came out of my mouth. I didn’t want him to know that I am hurt because he told me he wasn’t going to be my first kiss, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

Talon spins, striding towards me and lashing out, his hand curling around the back of my neck. “Is that what this is about?” he growls, his voice low. “You want me to fuckin’ kiss you so you’re actin’ like a spoilt brat to get it?”

I don’t get the chance to answer, because his lips crush down over mine and my entire world stops.

It isn’t gentle.

It isn’t soft.

It’s a goddamn storm.

Talon kisses me in a way I could only dream of—fierce, demanding, like he's been holding himself back for far too long. His grip tightens at the back of my neck, anchoring me to him as his other hand curls into the fabric at my hip, dragging me closer until there’s no space between us. Heat erupts where our bodies meet, and I gasp as the air is ripped from my lungs.

His mouth moves over mine with purpose, a wild, chaotic promise in every sweep of his tongue. My knees go weak, and if it weren’t for his hold, I’d have collapsed right there on the ground. My hands, acting on instinct, clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more. Needing all of it.

It’s a kiss that silences every doubt I’ve ever had.

He bites my bottom lip, just enough to make me gasp, and when my mouth parts, he groans—low, deep, and sinful. The sound vibrates against my lips, and I whimper, overwhelmed, undone. I feel everything all at once—rage, longing, the ache of every touch I never got to have, and every kiss that never meant a damn thing until now.

My fingers slide up into his hair, gripping, pulling, desperate to hold on to this moment. But just like that, it is over before it began. He pulls back slightly, just enough to let our foreheads touch, both of us breathing hard. He smells incredible, like man and leather and a cologne I want to drench myself in.

“Is that what you wanted?” he rasps.

I blink up at him, chest heaving, lips swollen. “Yes.”

He steps back.

My heart breaks a little.

Just one step—but it feels like the distance between us is bigger than ever. His chest rises and falls, his jaw clenched so tight it looks painful. The storm behind his eyes shifts. The heat cools. Replaced by something sharp. He’s still angry, and I brace myself for what is going to come next.

He swipes a hand through his hair, the other still balled into a fist at his side. “You ever pull that kinda stunt again—runnin’ off, puttin’ yourself in danger, baitin’ me with some jealous shit—you’re out.”

I freeze and my heart stammers. His words burn, a blade through my chest.

“I mean it. This ain’t a fuckin’ game. You want to act reckless, go ahead—but not under my protection. Not under this roof. You don’t get to use your trauma like a fuckin’ weapon against people trying to help you.”

My heart cracks clean in two.

He sees it—hell, I know he sees it. But he doesn’t back down. Doesn’t soften. He’s already pulling away, mentally boarding up whatever door he just kicked open with that kiss. He’s crushing me and I can’t do anything to stop it. Before I can answer, he turns and walks away.

He leaves me standing there.

Breathless.

Bruised.

And more alone than ever.

THAT NIGHT, SLEEP IS elusive. I toss and turn, my mind refuses to quiet down. It is racing, not with thoughts of Cyrus—but of Talon. The way his lips crashed against mine and he kissed me like it actually meant something. And then... the cold . The sharp snap of his voice when he pulled away, as if he was only doing it to shut me up. The warning laced in every brutal word. I can still hear him: You ever pull that kinda stunt again—you’re out.

Mera gave me something to help me sleep, and I cave, taking it because I’m desperate. I just want to lay my head down and feel what everyone else feels, a deep comfort of knowing I’m in bed and I’m safe. The feeling of my body slowly sinking into the warm bed, drifting off to sleep without a care in the world.

It doesn’t happen like that, but I do fall asleep.

Eventually.

Until I’m awoken to the sound of voices shouting.

For a moment, I jerk upright, forgetting where I am. The familiar memories of the chaos I grew up in make me think I’m right back there. As I slowly come to, I remember where I am, and I slowly figure out that the voices sound panicked. Rubbing my eyes, I push out of bed and that’s when I smell it...

Smoke.

My head whips in the direction of my window, and although my room is dimly lit by the moonlight, the glow is not that of the moon, but instead an orange flicker. I stumble forward, adrenaline flooding my limbs as I rush to the window, staring out.

What I see makes my knees buckle.

Just outside of the front gates, something is burning. All I can see are flames, large and angry, catching onto the trees nearby.

I don’t think, I just move.

I run outside of my room and towards the gates where everyone is gathering. Wolfe is barking down the phone, no doubt to the fire department, and all the bikers are trying to gather what they can to put out the fire that is blazing. As I near it, my entire body jerks to a stop when I realize what it is.

This isn’t an accidental fire.

This is a large scarecrow, strung up to a wooden cross.

This is a message.

But that’s not the only thing that makes my blood run cold.

It’s the clothes it’s wearing.

It’s wearing one of my dresses, I would know them anywhere. We all had clothes that were uniquely ours.

The scarecrow has been dressed just like me.

I don’t even realize I’m screaming until Mera is holding me, shaking my shoulders, trying to get me to stop. The sound rips from my throat so violently it feels like it tears something inside of me. I’m shaking all over as the message hits, loud and clear.

“Hey, honey, it’s okay,” Mera soothes, rubbing her hands frantically up and down my back to calm me.

I finally stop screaming, now in some kind of shock as I stare at the horrifying image before me. A black smoke plume billows into the sky, thick and choking. The cross on fire is a harrowing reminder of what they are capable of, and they are making sure I get that message loud and clear.

“What the fuck is that?” Kael roars, the last to come out of his room.

He’s shirtless, sleepy-eyed, but as he stares at the scarecrow, he quickly comes to life.

“That’s me,” I croak.

Four bikers turn to stare at me, their faces masked with shock and rage.

“Motherfuckers,” Talon barks. “Fucking cunts.”

“It’s a message,” Knox growls.

“It’s because I didn’t go with him,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone.

“We should have had people on watch,” Zane barks. “Fuck me, how did this happen?”

“Fire department is on their way,” Wolfe growls, striding over, his eyes pinning me. “Want to tell me what the fuck this is?”

“This is just the beginning. I told you...I told you what they’ll do. Do you believe me now? Do any of you believe me now? They’re fucking crazy.”

Silence.

My legs tremble and as if in slow motion, my body starts falling to the ground. Somehow, Talon is there to catch me. He is always there to catch me when I fall. My face hits the leather of his jacket as he hauls me against him, the scent of smoke and sweat surrounding me. My body is shaking, but nothing I do will stop it.

“You don’t get to fall apart. Not now. You wanna be here, with us, you better fucking understand what that means. They want you scared. They want you weak. You give ‘em that, you’re already gone.”

I flinch at his words, but he doesn’t stop.

“That scarecrow? That’s war. They made it personal. Which means you stay close. You listen. We will fix this, but you gotta trust us.”

“They’re dangerous,” I whisper, clutching his jacket in my hands, as if that will stop anything.

“So are we.”

I nod.

Only then does he soften—barely. His chin rests on the top of my head, his breath hot against my hair. I want to stay here forever, where it feels safe, even if that safety is more in my imagination than it is anything else.

“Breathe for me, yeah,” he growls, his voice low. “We got this.”

But even as he says it, I can’t shake the feeling crawling down my spine.

He’s right, this is war.

I’m just afraid it’s a war we won’t win.