I drop my hold on my sisters and bat away Morrigan’s hand when she tries to stop me. I take measured steps toward the men—because there’s no mistaking them for anything but men.
None of them remove their helmets, surprising me until I see what’s written on the small patch on the front of their cuts—Der kopflose Reiter.
German headless riders.
They don’t remove their helmets because they don’t have heads beneath them—at least not corporeal ones.
I rack my brain, trying to recall anything I can of their mythology, but come up blank. German isn’t really my area of expertise.
It’s hard to get an idea of their heights since they’re all sitting on their motorcycles, but they’re all fucking massive—the one in the back, the biggest of them all. Their size alone should be intimidating, but somehow I know they mean us no harm.
As a moirai, I will always follow my gut. They’re not here to hurt us, but that doesn’t mean what they’re here to tell us won’t hurt.
“You asked for us?”
The one sitting up front with the president patch on his cut nods. “If you are the moirai, then it is you we seek.”
“You know, it’s odd that you knew where to find us. Not only do most people not know what we are, but most people don’t know this place exists.”
“We are not most people,” he says, and clearly, I’m aware of that.
I sigh. “Why are you looking for us?”
“Are you not the ones who created Iero?” another of the riders asks.
“We are.”
“Then it is you we seek,” the first man says again. “We’ve come to warn you of impending danger.”
Great. Just great.
Even though I knew he was going to say some iteration of those words, it doesn’t make it any easier to hear.
I feel my sisters and Jaeden approach as I stare at the three riders.
“Let me guess,” Phoebe says with a smile. “She didn’t think to introduce herself, did she?”
The final rider chuckles as he shakes his head, and I barely keep from rolling my eyes.
“Of course not. I’m Phoebe Allard. This is my sister, Dalia, and my other sister, Morrigan. We are the moirai—more often called the Fates.”
The first man nods. “My name is Steel. I’m the president of the Headless Riders MC.”
“I’m Blaze, the road captain of the MC,” the second man says, lifting his hand in a wave before gesturing toward the last man. “This is Titan. He’s the sergeant at arms and doesn’t talk much.”
As if to prove Blaze’s point, Titan grunts and nods toward us.
“And this big guy back here is Jaeden. He’s on the Iero council.” Phoebe points to the man in question, who just continues to glower at the riders. If I weren’t so worried about why they’re here, I’d smile.
Blaze leans forward. “Are the rumors true? You’re triplets? Because I never would’ve guessed that.”
Phoebe nods, still grinning at the men who still haven’t told us why the hell they’re here. “Our mother birthed us all at once. It’s not often that triplets survived the birthing process back then, yet somehow we did. It was how our mother knew what we were—what we would become.”
“So it’s true then? Moirai aren’t born from the previous moirai?” It’s Steel who asks this question, surprising me. As the president, I would’ve expected him to want to get straight to business. Instead, he’s here asking questions about me and my sisters.
Questions we don’t have to answer, but if it’ll get them to give us the information we need faster, then I’ll do it.
“They can be, but not always. We were not. Now, would you like to tell us about the impending danger?”
