The brothers swarm him immediately—clapping him on the back, shaking his hand, pulling him into rough hugs.
Thunder's grinning wide.
Blaze punches his shoulder affectionately.
Rogue nods with genuine respect and pride.
Even the Reapers Rejects brothers join in—Damon shaking Shadow's hand, Dixon clapping him on the back, Shiver pulling him into a hug and saying something that makes Shadow laugh.
Then Dad raises his hand for silence, and the room settles down again.
"Banshee," Dad says. "Step forward."
Banshee looks surprised but stands from his seat and approaches the table, his expression guarded.
"You went with Shadow when he was exiled," Dad says, his voice firm. "You stayed loyal to your brother when he needed you most. You gave up your position, your comfort, everything—to stand by him."
Banshee's waiting, tense.
"That's what we do in this club," Dad continues. "We stand by our brothers. Loyalty isn't just a word we throw around—it's whowe are. And you proved your loyalty a hundred times over these past weeks."
Dad's expression softens slightly. "You never lost your patch, Banshee. You're still Road Captain. You always were. I was angry at Shadow, not you. And even if I had been—you earned that patch back ten times over in Houston and before."
Banshee's relief is visible, his shoulders dropping slightly, his jaw unclenching. "Thank you, Prez."
"Don't thank me. You earned it." Dad looks around the room at all the assembled brothers. "We've been through hell these past weeks. We lost brothers temporarily to exile. We faced threats from Copperhead Kings. We went to war in Houston."
He pauses, his voice strengthening with pride. "But we came through it together. Stronger. United. And that's what our club is about—brotherhood, loyalty, family. We protect what's ours. We stand by our brothers. And we don't back down from threats."
The meeting officially ends, and the room erupts into celebration.
Brothers congratulating Shadow, welcoming him back, embracing Banshee, the tension that's been hanging over the club for weeks finally, completely breaking.
Shadow finds me immediately, cutting through the crowd of brothers to pull me into his arms.
"I'm back," he says against my hair. "I'm really back."
"I told you," I say, smiling through my tears. "I told you it would be okay."
"You were right." He kisses me, deep and claiming, not caring who's watching. "You're always right."
Dad approaches, and Shadow straightens slightly—still respectful of the hierarchy, of the chain of command, even now.
"Grace," Dad says, looking at me with warmth in his eyes. "Your mother's planning a celebration tonight. Here at theclubhouse. For both of you. A wedding party of sorts since you got married in Vegas."
"Dad, you don't have to?—"
"We want to," he cuts me off gently. "You got married in a chapel with Elvis officiating the damn thing. You deserve better than that. The club wants to celebrate with you. Both of you."
I look at Shadow, who's watching me carefully, letting me decide. "What do you think?"
"If you want to," he says simply. "Whatever makes you happy."
"Then yes," I say to Dad, my heart full. "We'd love that. Thank you."
Dad nods, satisfied, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good. Seven o'clock. Don't be late to your own party." He pauses. "And Grace? I'm proud of you. For everything."
Then he walks away, leaving Shadow and me standing together in the middle of the celebrating brothers.
