Chosen Souls Motorcycle Club Novels & Stories

Marvel drove his car back to the place, which he claimed was a surprise wedding for Keysha. He entered a housing complex, which was said to be very luxurious. Even to enter the housing complex, you had to have an ID card, and then the gate would open. The entrance and exit doors had different gates, so it didn't get stuck. For guests who will come to the housing complex, they must provide the correct address to the security guard and the available monitoring screen, so you can be sure the housing is very safe.

I was able to hang with her and her best friend, Lyla, whom I adored the moment I met the loud mouth, hilarious country girl. After the spa day, Candice invited us to hang out with her boyfriend and his friends. Little did I know, her 'boyfriend and his friends' consisted of a fucking MC. The Nightmare Warriors are a local motorcycle club and after hanging out with them for a few hours, the fucking most awesome group of men this side of the Mississippi.

Since then, I’ve moved into a separate house than him, filled the role of Luna but not as his mate, and have been mostly raising the twins by myself, with the exception of Alice’s presence when I needed her. I hadn’t even wanted to take the Luna job, to be honest. But he told me I had to do something for this pack, otherwise there was no reason for him to let me stay. I had no choice but to accept. It wasn’t bad though. It gave me a chance to learn about this new pack I was a part of. I learned the six hundred members' main source of income comes from a construction company Sebastain founded, they have a warrior lineup that would put Killians to shame, and my mate is kind of a brat.

Midnight Run The moon hung fat and heavy over the desert highway, its silvery light catching on the chrome of two dozen motorcycles thundering through the night. Blaze Carson led the pack, his wolf stirring beneath his skin with each mile they devoured. The creative accounting that made the Iron Fangs MC look legitimate on paper called him "club president," but his true title was carved into his bones – Alpha. He ruled with a no mercy mindset, and he didn't care who thought him heartless. He also didn't have a mate yet, and he wasn't really looking. If he found her, he wanted to reject her because his life was how he wanted it. He didn't want to answer to someone else, especially a mate.

The command chamber reeked of ozone and fear. Retrieval squads stood in formation beneath the Council dais—shadows against the silvery light cast by the suspended soul mirrors. Each warrior wore reaper black, their scythes burning with pale runes that marked them for sanctioned descent. At the chamber’s center, Soreth paced like a caged beast, his armor humming with restrained fury. “They fell through the Vein,” he growled. “That’s not containment breach, that’s an existential threat.”

“This was fun while it lasted, but it was never going to be forever. It was always going to go this way, if things came down to you or the club. You knew this.” “The club?” Liam spat out. He’d never said one word against the Fallen Angels, the one-percenter motorcycle club that Ace was a member of, not in the whole year that he’d been with this man – but the time for reticence was over. Way fucking over. “The club that would make sure that you suffered a slow, painful death if they knew that you like men? The club that would shoot me between the eyes for being a fag?” His voice was dripping with sarcastic venom by now as he deliberately emphasized that hated, hateful word. “That club, Ace? T

Dead end, man. Just over eight months ago, he’d left Kentucky to prospect for the Fallen Angels MC, at the invitation of his cousin Joker, who'd said that the club was looking to expand and grow, and they needed recruits. Donovan 'Joker' Kane was a fiercely loyal member, and no wonder, seeing as he’d been born into the club – and quite literally.

There's no way Asher would be participating in this tournament. I checked the list before I came, his club's name wasn't here. When the bikers walked past me, none of them acted like they didn't recognize me. Or maybe they actually didn't. Who remembers a girl who had been humiliated five years ago? I read their color which was printed on the back of their jackets. “Second Dawn Motorcycle Club” They aren't M Springs Motorcycle club, not the same one as Asher's. The soft thudding of feet landing on the floor made me snap my gaze back to the van. Though soft, I could hear it above the voices and whispers in the area. My eyes blinked when I saw Asher step down.

The mafia Don was having more fun than what he had imagined. The race reminded him of Stephen and Damien. However, this time he didn't remember them in a painful way like he always does. Instead, he recalled how they used to have so much fun while training for the club racing competition. The club is called SURVIVORS, one of the biggest motorcycle racing clubs in Xiaomi city.

He asked, turning to face them. “What could the queen’s man possibly want to know about us?” Margo asked, tossing back a shot of whiskey. “How did the two of you end up affiliated with a motorcycle club?” He asked, trying not to laugh at the jab she had directed at him. “I was born into it?” Margo sighed, pouring herself another shot. “I got into it because we grew up together. Motorcycle clubs aren’t all bad, ya know. Why do you ask?” Dex sighed, sipping his beer.