I swing onto my motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath me.As I pull out of the lot with my father and Liam flanking me, my mind races through contingencies, threats, protective measures.The Reapers have chosen to escalate this conflict, targeting the vulnerable edges of our world.
They’ve made a fatal mistake.
Because now this isn’t just about territory or respect or club politics.Now it’s personal.And if there’s one thing the Reapers should have researched before coming to our town, it’s what happens to people who threaten what’s mine.
We split up at the first intersection, taking separate routes as planned.The hospital comes into view after a series of deliberate detours designed to flush out any tail.I circle the building once, scanning for threats before pulling up to the emergency entrance where Xavier said he’d be waiting.
He stands just inside the glass doors, speaking with a security guard.When he spots me, relief washes over his face.He says something to the guard, then pushes through the doors, moving quickly toward me.
“What’s happening?”he asks, accepting the helmet I hand him.
“Get on,” I say, eyes still scanning our surroundings.“I’ll explain everything once we’re somewhere safe.”
He swings onto the bike behind me with surprising grace, arms wrapping securely around my waist.The trust implicit in the action in his willingness to follow me without question tightens something in my chest.
“Where are we going?”he asks, voice close to my ear.
“Clubhouse,” I reply, kickstarting the engine.“Grey’s orders.”
I feel him tense slightly against my back, but he doesn’t protest.Instead, his arms tighten around me, his body molding against mine as I pull away from the curb.In my side mirror, I catch a glimpse of my father’s bike appearing from the west entrance, falling into position behind us.Liam will be taking a completely different route, meeting us at the rendezvous point.
As we wind through side streets, avoiding main roads, I feel Xavier’s steady heartbeat against my back.The weight of responsibility settles over me, not just for his physical safety, but for bringing him deeper into a world he may not be ready to fully understand.
But the Reapers have left us no choice.They’ve declared war, not just on the Devil Souls, but on everyone connected to us.And in doing so, they’ve sealed their fate.
Because nobody threatens what’s mine and lives to tell about it.
* * *
Xavier
I arrive at the clubhouse with Zach, my arms still wrapped around his waist as he guides the motorcycle to a stop.The rumble of engines behind us announces his father and Liam pulling in, completing our escort.My legs feel slightly wobbly as I dismount, a combination of adrenaline and the unfamiliarity of motorcycle travel.
The Devil Souls’ clubhouse isn’t what I expected.From the outside, it’s an unassuming single-story building with reinforced windows and a large parking area already filling with motorcycles.Men in leather cuts move with purpose, some carrying weapons openly, others speaking in hushed tones while scanning the perimeter.
“Stay close,” Zach murmurs, his hand settling at the small of my back as he guides me toward the entrance.The warmth of his palm seeps through my shirt, grounding me in the moment.
Inside, the contrast is jarring.What looks like a typical bar at first glance reveals itself as something more complex.A headquarters, a sanctuary, a fortress.Dark wood paneling lines the walls, adorned with motorcycle memorabilia and framed photographs.The air smells of leather, whiskey, and something else I can’t quite identify, a blend of gun oil and cigarette smoke that somehow feels both dangerous and oddly comforting.
The room falls into momentary silence as we enter, dozens of eyes turning to assess me.I straighten my spine, refusing to shrink under their scrutiny.These are Zach’s people.This is his world.
“Doc,” Greyson acknowledges with a nod, breaking the silence as he approaches.Up close, the club president is even more intimidating than I remember from the hospital.Tall and solid, with penetrating blue eyes that seem to catalog my every reaction.“Welcome to our home.”
“Thank you for the hospitality,” I reply, keeping my voice steady.“Though I wish it were under better circumstances.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips.“Don’t we all.”He turns to address the room.“For those who haven’t met him, this is Dr.Xavier Blane.He’s under our protection.Treat him accordingly.”
The simple declaration carries weight.I feel something shift in the atmosphere, the assessment in their gazes transforming into something like acceptance.Or, at least, tolerance.
Zach’s hand remains at my back, a subtle reminder of his presence as Greyson continues.“We’re on full lockdown until further notice.No one goes out alone, no one comes in without verification.Families are being brought in as we speak.”
As if on cue, the door opens again.A woman enters with two huge men around the same age as me following behind her.I can tell right off the bat that they’re related.
She’s striking, tall and elegant even in simple jeans and a blouse, with dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail.The boys flanking her share her coloring but have the solid build of the man who follows them in.
“Myra,” Zach says, his voice warming slightly.“Glad you made it safely.”
The woman, Myra, offers a tired smile.“Ryan insisted on taking the most convoluted route possible.I think we drove through three counties to get here.”Her eyes find mine, curious but not unwelcoming.“You must be Xavier.I’ve heard about you.”
