3-ROAD WOLVES

“Kaelyn wanted me to give you this.”

Bianca held out a black card like it offended her to touch it.

Rose took it, turning it between her fingers. Matte black. Just a name stamped in sharp silver.

Kaelyn Black.

A number beneath it.

Nothing else.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Rose asked, glancing up.

Bianca looked at her the way people looked at something they’d stepped in.

Then she gave a small, careless shrug.

“What the hell do I care?”

And just like that, she was gone.

Rose stared at the empty space for a beat longer than she liked.

Then she let out a slow breath and slid the card into her back pocket.

“Right,” she muttered. “Normal night.”

She swung onto her bike, kicked it to life, and let the engine settle into a low growl beneath her. The city lights bled behind her as she pulled out, leaving Westwood in her mirrors.

The highway opened up ahead, long and dark and familiar.

An hour.

That was all that stood between her and something that almost felt like peace.

HOWL AT THE MOON

The bar that had become her home.

The parking lot was packed, bikes lined up in messy rows out front.

Stripper night.

Rose grimaced.

“Perfect.”

She parked out back, cut the engine, and rolled her shoulders once before heading in.

She scanned automatically.

No immediate threats.

Just the usual idiots.

Vivian was behind the bar, moving fast, her dark hair tied up in a messy knot, cheeks flushed as she poured drinks and flirted her way through tips.

“Hey, Viv,” Rose called as she slid behind the counter. “You can head out. I’ve got it from here.”

Vivian looked up, relief lighting her whole face. “You are an absolute angel.”

Her voice dropped as she leaned in, eyes sparkling. “You just missed the most sinful man I have ever seen in my life.”

Rose snorted, grabbing a cloth and wiping down the counter.

“That’s a low bar in here.”

“I am serious,” Vivian insisted, fanning herself dramatically. “The president of the Road Wolves. The way that man looked at me…” She paused, hand pressing to her chest. “I think I might already be pregnant again.”

Rose laughed, shaking her head.

“You need to go home and rethink your life choices.”

“I have four children, I don’t get to rethink anything,” Vivian shot back, grinning. Then her expression softened as she looked Rose over. “Speaking of bad decisions… how are you still single?”

Rose’s hand slowed on the counter.

“I like my peace,” she said lightly.

Vivian snorted. “That is not peace, honey. I’m thinking of sending you off to the nunnery.”

Rose reached for a bottle, keeping her eyes on the shelf.

“Pretty sure it’s peace.”

Vivian leaned closer, voice gentler now.

“You ever going to let someone in again?”

There it was.

Rose exhaled slowly.

“I had someone,” she said. “That was enough.”

Vivian’s face fell slightly.

“Xavier.”

Rose gave a small nod.

“May he rest in peace,” Vivian murmured, her usual brightness dimming. “He must have been something special.”

“He was,” Rose said, and left it there before the memory could take root and drag.

Vivian cleared her throat, stepping back. “Right. I’m going to grab my things before I say anything that makes this more awkward.”

“Good plan,” Rose said, offering a small smile.

“Rose.”

Lukes’ voice cut through the noise.

She glanced up to see him leaning in the doorway to his office, arms folded, expression unreadable.

“My office. Now.”

She followed him without a word.

The door shut behind them, muting the noise outside.

“How’d it go tonight?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. “Delivered the cargo. He said the payment’s already with you.”

Luke nodded once.

“How was he?”

Rose leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms.

“Not what I expected.”

Luke huffed a quiet laugh.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“He didn’t feel…” She hesitated. “Normal.”

Luke studied her for a second.

“He’s not.”

Rose’s gaze sharpened.

“Meaning?”

Luke pushed off the desk, pacing once before stopping in front of her.

“He is part of the notorious Blackhand mafia that runs Westwood City. He is my only connection in. No one has ever seen the Don before. Mr. Midnight is my only connection to him.”

“So, you’re telling me they are extremely dangerous?”

He looked at her long and hard.

“You ever run into a vampire before?”

Rose blinked.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

She let out a breath.

“Then there were three of them.”

Luke stilled.

“Three?”

“Blonde woman. Bianca. And another guy. Didn’t catch his name.”

Luke rubbed a hand over his jaw.

“I think Bianca’s his girl.”

Rose almost rolled her eyes. That tracked.

“He told me he wants to deal directly with you from now on,” Lucas added.

Rose tilted her head.

“Guess I made an impression.”

Luke gave her a look.

“You tend to.”

She ignored that.

“He says I stink,” he added casually.

Rose smirked. “He said I smell like roses.”

Luke blinked at her.

“…Of course he did.”

Silence stretched for a moment, then they both laughed.

“If you don’t want to deal with him again,” Luke said, tone shifting, “say the word.”

Rose thought about it.

About the way his touch had felt, about the vision that still hadn’t fully left her system.

About the way something in her had reacted before she could stop it.

“It’s fine,” she said.

Luke watched her carefully, then gave a slow nod.

“Alright.”

She pushed off the wall.

“Arthur might come through soon.”

Luke’s expression softened slightly. “Good man. Been a while.”

“And your mother?”

Rose gave a small shake of her head. “She won’t.”

Back behind the bar, Vivian waved on her way out, blowing Rose a kiss as she slipped through the door.

Dave and Brian, her regulars, were already planted at their usual spots.

“Evening, trouble,” Dave called.

“Behave yourselves,” Rose shot back, pouring their drinks without asking.

Brian leaned in conspiratorially.

“Road Wolves rolled through earlier.”

Rose raised a brow.

“And?”

“We’ve got bets,” Dave added, grinning. “On how long it’ll take you to knock one of them on their ass.”

Rose slid their drinks across.

“Maybe they’ll surprise you.”

Both men laughed like she’d told the best joke of the night.

“You give them too much credit,” Brian said.

Rose smirked and turned as a group at the pool table waved her over.

She loaded up a tray, weaving through bodies, ignoring the looks, the comments, the occasional bold stare.

She bent to set the drinks down.

A hand slid where it shouldn’t.

Laughter followed.

Rose moved before the sound finished.

A pool ball was in her hand, then gone.

It cracked into the wall inches from the offender’s head, embedding deep enough to make a point.

The room went quiet.

She straightened slowly.

“Try that again,” she said evenly, “and next time I will aim for your head.”

The man swallowed hard, hands lifting.

“Got it.”

Rose held his gaze for a beat longer, then turned and walked away as if she didn’t care.

Behind the bar, Dave let out a low whistle.

“Eighteen minutes,” Brian said.

“Pathetic,” Dave replied.

Rose rolled her eyes.

“You two are unbelievable.”

“Someone’s gotta keep score,” Brian said.

She shook her head, but a smile tugged at her mouth.

The night wore on after that. The crowd thinned, and she cut the music as chairs scraped back into place.

Rose moved through cleanup on autopilot, stacking, wiping.

Until at last she saw the last drunk out and locked the front door. Double-checking the handle.

She turned back toward the bar.

She felt it before she saw him.

Kaelyn Black stood beside the bar, looking at her like a man starved.

Like the lock meant nothing.

Rose stilled, every instinct sharpening.

“What the hell are you doing here?”