"Jacob Reyes." Hawk's voice filled the room, commanding without being loud. "You came to us as a prospect, untested and unproven. You've since demonstrated courage, loyalty, and honor. You've bled for this club. Nearly died for it."
Jake's throat worked, but he didn't speak. Smart kid. This wasn't his time to talk.
"The members of the Steel Phoenixes have voted unanimously to accept you as a full brother." Hawk lifted the leather cut we'd prepared—a full patch, not a prospect's rocker. "Do you accept the responsibilities that come with this honor?"
"I do." Jake's voice was rough but clear.
"Do you swear to protect your brothers, to uphold our code, to ride with honor and die with dignity?"
"I swear."
"Then kneel."
Jake knelt. Hawk stepped forward, placed the cut over his shoulders. The weight of it settled visibly—not just leather and thread, but everything it represented. Brotherhood. Family. Belonging.
"Rise, brother." Hawk's hand clasped Jake's shoulder. "You came to us as Jacob Reyes. You leave as Ghost."
Ghost.The name rippled through the room, murmurs of approval. It fit—Jake had survived things that should have killed him, moved through trauma like a specter, kept going when anyone else would have stopped.
"Ghost," Jake repeated, testing the word. A smile broke across his face—young and bright andalive. "Yeah. Yeah, I can live with that."
The room erupted. Brothers surged forward, clapping Jake—Ghost—on the back, ruffling his hair, pulling him into embraces that lifted him off his feet. Irish produced a bottle of something expensive. Blade started a chant that devolved into cheerful obscenity within seconds.
I hung back, watching. This was their moment, the brothers welcoming their newest member. My turn would come tomorrow.
Kai appeared at my side, sliding under my arm like he belonged there. Which he did. "Ghost," he said. "Good name."
"It suits him."
"It does." He was quiet for a moment, watching Jake—Ghost—accept a shot glass from Declan with shaking hands. "He's going to be okay, isn't he?"
"Eventually." I pressed a kiss to his temple. "We all are."
The party wound down around midnight. I'd lost track of how many toasts we'd drunk, how many stories had been told. Ghost had finally escaped to his room an hour ago, overwhelmed but beaming. The older members had drifted off in pairs and groups, leaving behind empty bottles and full ashtrays.
Tyler was one of the last to leave. I watched him pause by the door, exchange a few words with Tank, who'd been holding up a wall all evening. Whatever Tyler said made Tank duck his head—almost shy, which was bizarre on a man that size.
"Your brother's making friends," I murmured to Kai.
"I noticed." There was something careful in his voice. "Interesting friends."
"Tank's a good man."
"I know. I just..." Kai shook his head. "Never mind. It's not my business."
"Since when has that stopped you?"
He laughed, elbowed me gently. "Fair point. I just want them both to be happy. Whatever that looks like."
Tyler chose that moment to look over, catch us watching. He raised an eyebrow, smirked, and headed out—but not before throwing one more glance at Tank over his shoulder.
Tank noticed. Definitely noticed. "Interesting," I repeated.
"Very."
Our room felt different tonight. Maybe it was the candlelight—Kai had lit half a dozen, scattered across the dresser and nightstand. Maybe it was the knowledge of what tomorrow would bring. Or maybe it was the way Kai was looking at me, soft and serious and wanting.
"Come here," he said.
