Silence drops like a hammer.
Oaks whistles under his breath.
Rye mutters, “Hell yeah.”
Whiskey raises his brows, and his glass.
Even Sophie, standing near the back, stiffens before she lets out a breath she’s been holding.
Legend inhales slowly.Then says, “Brother, you can have her.”
I stop breathing.
Royal does too.
But Legend keeps talking, voice low, steady.“You brought back Joey.You brought back answers.And you’re the only one who ever got close enough to crack Crowley’s leash on her.Becki is yours.I ain’t fighting you for her.”
The tension snaps.
Royal grabs my hand.
His knuckles are bloody.His pulse violent.His breath wrecked.He pulls me into his side like a declaration.
Like a vow.
My chest shakes.
My vision blurs.
He claimed me in front of the Kings.
He claimed me like a man ready for war.
And when Legend nods once in approval, something inside my ribs finally stops running.Chasing him.
Royal squeezes my hand harder.
“Come on,” he murmurs.“You’re coming with me.”
I go.
Because after everything tonight, I finally understand something terrifying and true.
I am his.
Royal’s.
And he will burn the world down to keep me.
Chapter 41
Royal
The club vote is still ringing in my ears as the brothers scatter, muttering about traitors, demons, Crowley, the upcoming war, and how I must’ve lost my mind over the Reverend’s daughter.Maybe I have.Maybe that is the first thing in my life that feels right.
Becki stays close behind me, bandaged wrist tucked against her chest, still bruised from where she was dragged.Every time she winces, something in me snarls.She is mine to protect now.Mine to command.Mine to ruin if I choose.Mine to save whether she wants saving or not.
Legend ends the meeting with a slam of the gavel and a look that says we are all one breath from hell.
