Claimed By The Biker King Novels & Stories

All around us, men stood guard, their gazes sharp. I wasn't skilled with guns or any other form of weapon, but I just knew these people could take someone out from even a far distance. Their faces showed it all. Cold and ruthless. I'd expected a clubhouse. A rough, gritty rough biker den. But I couldn't be any more wrong. This wasn't just the home of a simple biker. This was the home of a king. A ruthless biker king who just happened to be my husband now. As I took in more and more of the massive grounds, well, as far as my eyes could see that is, a slow horrible realization crept up my spine. This wasn't just wealth, this was dangerous wealth.

"They did, but no one is allowed to enter the place yet, as far as I know. If she doesn't come through soon, I may have to take care of it myself." "That's going to be hard to do." "Why is that?" "The place will be crawling with out-of-towners this weekend." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Haven't you heard? There're flyers all over the place, some kind of biker rally to save the kids." "What, kids? The ones we took?" "I guess I didn't stick around to find out, but it seems like one of those biker things you read about. They raise money to help runaways, and some of them even find missing kids and take them back home."

His voice was husked and the anger that dwelt within could be easily noticed. Even in his eyes, the roaming darkness. "I am the King" His thumb touched my lower lip and that was when the darkness in him relaxed. "The only people who get to attack me are those I give a chance to. This isn't about the loan shark, Senorita. Foreigners can never get to me. Their fvcking legs would be burnt the moment they step into my territory. The one who just attacked is a territorial enemy whose life I spared months ago. I guess those destined to die cannot escape no matter how long it takes "

Krystal's resolute nod reinforced our commitment to follow his advice, understanding the necessity of maintaining a low profile in this volatile Following Krystal's lead, I followed her towards the bar, the familiar strains of Bob Seger's "Main Street" resonating through the air. The choice of music only confirmed what I had already suspected – we were indeed in a biker bar. In my mind, Fat Bob had always been associated with images of Harley-Davidsons, cold beers, and Tom Cruise's infamous underwear dance. Little did I know that tonight, I would be adding toothy strippers to that rather eclectic mental picture.

He reached over and turned off the main light, leaving only the small lamp on the bedside table glowing softly. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. I rested my head on him, listening to the steady thump of his heart. It calmed me, grounded me. After a long moment, I whispered into the darkness. “Killian?" "Hmm?" "Who were those people? The ones outside? The bikers?" He was quiet for a moment. Then, softly: "Old friends. From my biker club days. After what happened with Lucas and Benita, the club scattered. But now they want to reform. They want me to lead them again."

“You’re allowed to break down.” “She’s killing herself for us,” Maya whispered. “And I’ve been too distracted with all the club drama to even notice.” “Your problems matter too,” Dominic said softly. “Not like this. I can’t deal with biker wars when my family’s falling apart. Maybe we should end this by telling everyone it was fake. Go back to being nobody.” “It’s not fake anymore,” he said, voice firm. “And walking away won’t make you safe. The Vipers already know who you are.”

By the time we caught up to them, we were at the grave site and Petal, Dom and Decker were talking with Thor, Sunny and the pastor. As we parked, King, Shooter and Ace rushed off their bikes and stormed over to Petal. My eyes narrowed as Petal's Dad grabbed her arm and tried to pull her away. I hurried to join them as Dom and Decker both pulled their guns and pointed them at King. Then Shooter and Ace pulled their guns and pointed them at Dom and Decker. "Let her go!!!" Dom bellowed at King. "Fuck off! You can't do shit like that. It's going to get her killed. You've already lost your women, you aren't gonna kill my daughter too. " King spat back.

My voice was barely audible over the roar of thirty other bikes accelerating in the background. "Iron Kings.” Justin spat, looking toward the other end of the ribbon. "That motherf*cker… Brick is running point. He says he has got a new block modification that will leave you in the dust." I followed his gaze. The Iron Kings were a heavy-handed crew from the south side. They lacked finesse. But their bikes were monsters. And there was Brick. A man with a beard like steel wool and a skull tattooed on his throat. He was sitting on a matte black beast that looked more like a tank than a motorcycle.

“Maybe. But it sure as hell doesn’t respect you anymore.” The tall rider took another step forward, raising his hands to quiet the murmurs. His voice carried strong now, no hesitation. “We came because he promised us a throne. But what’s a king worth if he can’t even defend his crown? If all he does is hide behind blood?” Rafe jerked, snarling. “Don’t you dare—” The rider cut him off. “I say we’re done here.” He turned, spat in the dirt, and swung onto his bike. The engine roared, tires spitting gravel as he rode off into the dark.

"When I was fourteen, I started riding with the older guys in the club. Terrified. Shaking. But I acted like I owned the place." "You were a delinquent. That's different." "I was confident. Confidence is confidence." Duke caught her shoulders. "Emma. Look at me." She turned. His daughter. Dark-eyed and stubborn and trying so hard not to show how frightened she was. "You are the toughest kid I know," Duke said. "You've grown up with bikers, handled a blended family, dealt with things most fourteen-year-olds never face. High school is nothing compared to what you've already survived."