Page 28 of Canvas’ Muse

"You're beautiful," Davis says, watching me.

"I'm a mess."

"A beautiful mess." He stands, testing his balance. "My beautiful mess."

"Possessive much?"

"You have no idea." He pulls me close with his good arm, kissing me deep. "But you're mine now. Forever, remember? I'm allowed to be possessive."

"Forever," I agree against his lips. "Now let's go face the music before they send someone else to check on us."

"After you."

I open the door, and we head downstairs together. Davis moves slowly, favoring his shoulder, but he's steady. Strong. And his hand finds mine as we walk, fingers lacing together like they belong there.

Like we belong together.

Forever might be crazy. But looking at Davis, feeling his hand in mine, still feeling him inside me, forever sounds absolutely perfect.

Chapter 8 - Canvas

She belongs to me now.

The thought settles into my chest as we walk downstairs, hand in hand, and it feels right in a way nothing else has in my entire life. Eden Cross is mine. And I'll give my life to protect her again and again if I have to.

I already took one bullet for her. I'd take a hundred more.

The common room comes into view, and I immediately know we're fucked. Everyone is there. Phoenix and Ivy on the couch, Judge and Nora at the table with little Grace, Saint leaning against the bar with a knowing smirk, Ranger and Brick standing near the door, Wraith with his daughter Mariah, Diesel wiping his hands on a rag, Echo in the corner as always.

The moment we reach the bottom of the stairs, the entire club starts clapping.

Slow claps at first, then building into full applause with whistles and cheers. Saint is grinning like an asshole. Judge raises his beer in salute. Even Phoenix looks amused, though he's trying to hide it.

"Fuck off," I tell them all, but I'm smiling despite myself.

"Sounded like you already did!" Diesel calls out, and the room erupts in laughter.

Eden's face goes red, but she doesn't hide behind me. She just squeezes my hand and raises her chin, meeting their eyes. That's my girl. Not backing down, not apologizing for what we did.

"Alright, alright." Phoenix stands, and the room quiets immediately. That's what happens when your president speaks. Everyone listens. "Give them a break. At least he didn't tear his stitches."

"How do you know?" Saint asks, pushing off from the bar. "I should check—"

"You're not checking shit," I interrupt. "I'm fine. Everything's fine. We're all good."

"Uh-huh." Saint is definitely enjoying this too much. "I'll be the judge of that later. After dinner. In the medical room. Alone."

Eden laughs beside me, and the sound makes something warm bloom in my chest. She's not intimidated by the club, by their teasing, by any of it. She's holding her own, and I've never been prouder of someone in my life.

Phoenix gestures for everyone to settle. "I need a minute. Everyone."

The tone shifts immediately. This isn't club president making small talk. This is war council. We all find seats, Eden still holding my hand as we sit on the couch. The kids, Grace and Mariah, are ushered upstairs by Nora, who knows what's coming.

When it's just the MC and the old ladies, Phoenix speaks.

"The war with the Vipers is going to ask for everything we have." His voice is steady. "They're bigger, they're meaner, and they've already shown they don't care about collateral damage. Judge got beaten. Canvas got shot. This is just the beginning."

The room is silent, everyone listening.