Claimed By The Biker King Novels & Stories

Now that was the Ty I knew and loved. "We still haven't seen him yet but if you tracked him here and that book ties in then there are only so many places around here he could be hiding out. We'll get to the bottom of it. Just one more player, he should be here..." Just then Chaz opened up the gate and a whole fucking crew of bikers came riding in. The leader dismounted off his custom made top of the line ride with his wife's name emblazoned on the side and headed for us. One smooth motherfucker this one, and the shades just tipped that shit over the edge.

Frank did not hold back, waving his hand and crushing the Lamborghini into a ball of steel less than eight inches wide! It went without saying that the biker was astounded—Frank swooped in to save him at lightning speed, saving him, and then crushing an entire car into a ball? All those things were impossible! Pointing at a nearby hill, the biker asked, "Excuse me… If I'm not mistaken, you're the mountain deity here, right?" Frank smiled, shaking his head. "You're imagining things. There are no gods, but you have to go right now. I'd rather not get you into trouble once the fighting starts."

He came out as soon as he heard my bike. “What happened? I am not supposed to see you for a couple of days” He looked at me worried and I knew his anxiety was going nuts. “I have some information that might interest you” I grinned as I walked past him into his house. I went to the kitchen and flicked on the jug. He sat at the dining room table and watched me. “What kind of news?” “I know who The King is.” “No one knows who he is, he is like a ghost.” “Oh, I know, and the bastard has something that belongs to me.”

Publicly. How was that even possible? Yes, he had always feared the bikers. He had heard countless dangerous stories about them, which was why he had avoided the Rogue Kingdom for years. But this was different. This was no time for fear or caution. This was no time to be a coward. He would reclaim his Luna—even if it cost him his life. The moment his car and the warriors’ SUVs came to a halt a few miles away from the Devil’s Riders’ clubhouse, they all jumped out. Rowan turned to his men—his inner circle—and addressed them.

“Now walk.” And I did. My first step was shaky but by the time I took the second step, I was suddenly confident and I walked like a queen. Our steps were rhythmic, the bikers parted for us like the sea and now, we are standing inches away from Leon. “So you say, I can't leave?” Aldrich sneers. “And who the hell wants to stop me? You?” His tone was condescending. “You want to stop the king of the Western coastal regions? You know what I'm going to do, I won't burn down your pack because there are innocent pack members who had no offence in having someone as stupid as you as their king. But I'm going to burn down you and your palace.”

Five men stood near the bar and they all wore sleeveless leather vests over T-shirts with jeans and biker boots. ‘Great,’ Klara thought. More bikers, more trouble. Nate had died because of bikers. She wasn’t sure that she could keep working there but it wasn’t like she had many options at her disposal. One man cleared his throat and the conversation around her stopped abruptly. “Thank you, everyone, for meeting us here tonight. My name is Bandit and I’m the President of the Road Warriors. Before Nate’s untimely death, we’d been in discussions to buy the club from him so taking over now seems appropriate,” the big man said.

I demanded, my voice carrying every weight of punishment. No one responded. “Alpha!” One of the bikers called out, and he ran towards me, taking a bow. I looked over at him. “Speak,” I commanded, my voice thundering with so much authority, “tell me, why is everyone fighting?” The biker trembled, this was totally normal to me. “The bikers loyal to Raymond started the fight, they talk about how you’re not…” he paused, realizing that his next words had the tendency to get me mad.

"I'm doing this. With or without legal approval." Sarah closed her eyes briefly. "Fine. But I'm going to be there. With paramedics on standby. And if this goes sideways, I'm pulling you out myself." "Deal." As we walked out of the police station, I kept my arm around Lisa. People stared—we'd become infamous. The biker enforcer and his society bride. The alliance nobody wanted. "Jackson," Lisa said quietly. "That photo of your truck. You weren't anywhere near the Iron Wolves clubhouse that night."

“The Biker Brothers, the five guys that ride with the Road Warriors? Black hair? Blue eyes?” “Couple of them twins?” she asked, yes. Those guys.” “I don’t know them, but I know their president is Adam Hunt. They’re right up her alley, aren’t they?” she asked. “Not helping. Though, the oldest the brother is the vice president of that club. I didn’t know you knew their president.” “Yep. Adam his name, comes and talks to me whenever I’m bartending and he’s there. He doesn’t frequent as much as his club is starting to but the shit with your mom is gross. Where’s she now?”

His motorcycle didn’t announce itself. It roared. That deep, violent sound tore through the silence of the compound like a warning shot. Conversations died instantly. Heads turned. Even the guards shifted uneasily, hands moving instinctively toward their weapons before they realized who it was. Everyone knew that sound. Everyone knew him. Kade Roman. The biker Alpha they had once tried to erase from their territory. The man who refused to stay gone. The gates of the estate swung open with a heavy metallic groan, and there he was riding in like the world still bent to his rules. Black bike. Black jacket. Eyes colder than anything human should be allowed to carry.