Havoc’s fingers tighten in my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. His other hand slides down to the small of my back, pressing me against him until I can feel every hard plane of his body.
I pull back from our kiss, breathless but needing answers. “What happened at the meeting? Are you okay? Is everyone safe?”
Havoc’s thumbs brush over my cheeks, his expression softening as he looks at me. “It was some crazy shit, baby. Bishop didn’t know about the attack on you—turns out Switchback’s been plotting against him, running his own operations behind Bishop’s back.”
“So what does that mean? For us? For—” I swallow hard. “For what happened to my dad?”
Havoc’s eyes darken, a flash of something savage crossing his features before he controls it. “It means your father’s been avenged, Sasha. Switchback was the one who ordered the hit on Viking. And now he’s paid for it.”
I don’t ask for details. The grim satisfaction in Havoc’s voice tells me enough.
“Bishop and I’ve agreed on a truce. The Forsaken will stay out of our territory, and we’ll respect theirs. The war’s over, baby girl.”
Relief floods through me, my knees nearly buckling. “It’s really over? They won’t come after me anymore?”
“No one’s coming after you. Not ever.” He presses his forehead against mine. “And right now, all I want is to lose myself in you.”
His words send a shiver of anticipation through me. The fear that’s gripped me all day transforms into something else—a desperate need to feel alive, to celebrate his safe return.
“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs against my lips. “How about a ride in the moonlight? Just you and me.”
“Yes,” I whisper, suddenly craving the freedom of the open road, the vibration of his bike beneath me, and his solid body to hold onto.
Havoc grabs a helmet and hands it to me. As I secure it on my head, he swings his leg over his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath him. He looks back at me, eyes bright in the compound lights.
I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling the solid warmth of him. My body molds against his back as I press close, my cheek resting between his shoulder blades.
25
SASHA
The wind streams through my hair as we ride away from the compound, the powerful rumble of the motorcycle vibrating between my thighs. I press my body against Havoc’s back, my arms locked around his waist, feeling his abdominal muscles flex as he takes each curve.
We ride for about fifteen minutes before Havoc turns onto a narrow dirt path that winds through a copse of trees. The branches create a natural tunnel overhead, moonlight filtering through in dappled patterns across our path.
When we emerge from the trees, my breath catches.
A small lake spreads before us, its surface a mirror reflecting the full moon and scattered stars. The water ripples gently, breaking the reflected light into shimmering fragments. Rock formations border one side, while tall pines stand sentinel along the other.
Havoc kills the engine and helps me off the bike. The sudden silence feels sacred somehow, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against the shoreline and the occasional call of a night bird.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace.
Havoc’s hand finds the small of my back as he guides me to a flat boulder near the water’s edge. We sit side by side, close enough that our thighs touch.
“Found this place about eight years ago,” Havoc says, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “Was riding to clear my head after a deal went sideways. I nearly lost Tank that night.”
I lean into his shoulder, encouraging him to continue.
“Started coming here whenever the weight of the gavel got too heavy.” He gestures toward the water. “Something about watching the moon on the water... helps me sort through shit.”
He turns to me, his face gentler in the moonlight, those piercing blue eyes holding mine. “Never brought anyone here before. This has always been just for me.”
I reach up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw. “Thank you for showing me.”
“You’re not just anyone, Sasha.” His fingers thread through mine. “You’re everything.”
I lift my face to his, drawn by the intensity in his eyes. His lips meet mine, gentle at first—a stark contrast to his usual demanding kisses. The tenderness catches me off guard, making my heart flutter in my chest. But within moments, that familiar heat ignites between us.
