Cyber Motorcycle Novels & Stories

Looking at all these motorcycles lined up and cared for so meticulously I could see that the same was true for everyone in the Steel Vultures. "Can I ask you something?" I said and turned to look at Cain. "Go ahead," he said. "Why motorcycles specifically? I mean you're werewolves. You can run faster than any bike can go. So why bother with them at all?" Cain considered my question for a moment before answering. "You're right that we can run faster in our wolf forms. But riding gives us something different. It's about the experience and the feeling of the road beneath you and the wind in your face. It's about being part of something bigger than yourself."

"You have been cooped up inside this concrete compound for days now. I thought you might really need some fresh air to clear your head." He led me out through the back door and into the bright sunlight of the yard, walking toward the long line of shiny motorcycles parked against the wall. His bike was completely unmistakable—it was a massive, heavy black Harley-Davidson motorcycle with bright chrome details that caught the sunlight and a large Iron Reapers skull painted right onto the fuel tank. He reached over, grabbed a black helmet from the handlebars, and handed it to me. Then, he stepped closer and helped me strap it tightly under my chin, his large, tattooed fingers moving with careful

A Ducati Panigale V4 S. It was a high-performance beast that pumped out over 210 horsepower, screaming from 0 to 100 km/h in just over three seconds. It was exactly what she needed—and exactly what she had always wanted, though Ryder had been against it. To him, riding a motorcycle was not "ladylike" or safe. A respectful Luna needed to be in the back seat of a large, blacked-out vehicle with bodyguards, not racing through the streets like a teenager. She knew buying it now was reckless. It would leave her nearly broke, but as she looked at the defiant red finish, she didn't care. This was her first act of true rebellion. Now, none of Ryder's rules mattered.

Larissa playfully punched him, "Zayn, you traitor!" Ambrose couldn't help but laugh. Camy had just finished cleaning herself up when she saw Larissa and Zayn pushing the motorcycle out. They were even pushing it onto the main road and about to hop on! Camy nearly passed out from anger. That was a limited-edition racing motorcycle with only 100 in the world! Every year, only one would be produced! She had begged Ambrose for it for so long, but he never paid any attention to her. Yet, Larissa and Zayn were now taking it away!

She asked, hope lighting up her eyes. “No, so we can take it out on today's adventure.” Her bold front cracked into a full-blown incredulous look. “You must be crazy. I'm not getting on that bike.” “Why?” I lifted my brows. “Why???” She parroted in a horrified voice. “Do you know that the risk of dying from riding a motorcycle is 37 times more than from driving a car? I mean, I once saw a motorcycle collide with a car. The car driver only had a few scratches. The cyclist died on the spot.”

The sweet, uncontrolled spill of lily-of-the-valley, mixed with the acrid burn of cedar and gunpowder, slammed directly into his nostrils. His upper lip curled back. His canines flashed in the moonlight, lethal and gleaming. The muscles of his jaw clenched into granite under his cheek. His wildfire scent detonated through the narrow plank road, a wall of molten heat crashing over me. A territorial claim more primal than any roar. "That mark." The words ground out from between his teeth, rough as gravel scraping over rust. "I'm going to bite it off. I swear it." The throttle roared wide open. The motorcycle screamed down the plank road.

Katie’s POV The roar of motorcycle engines filled the training field. Katie stood near the edge of the dirt track, arms folded across her chest as the Obsidian pack raced around the wide circular course. The smell of gasoline mixed with dust in the hot afternoon air, and every few seconds another bike shot past her in a blur of speed. The race of the year was not about claws or shifting. It was about machines, control, and nerve. Motorcycles had always been part of rogue culture. Fast. Loud. Dangerous. Wolves loved them because they demanded the same instincts as hunting—balance, speed, and fearlessness.

She opened her mouth to scream when the sound of motorcycle engines roared down the street. Six bikes appeared from around the corner moving fast. They weren't Vipers. The engines sounded different. More expensive. The bikes pulled up in a half circle around Maya and the three men and suddenly the air felt different. Heavier. The riders killed their engines and the silence that followed was worse than the noise. They climbed off their bikes and Maya saw their vests. Iron Wolves MC. She didn't know if that was better or worse than the Vipers. One of them walked forward and the others followed. He was tall with dark hair and the kind of face that probably got him anything he wanted. His leathe

, Rex said snidely, what was his problem with me now. "Shut it up Rex, you're just jealous that Nox and Vixen did better than you and Yuri.", Mariana replied back at him, crossing her hands on her chest. "At least we're not using some illegal thing unlike these idiots.", Yuri shouted back at us and I told Mariana to just shake it off and tell her and everyone to celebrate all of our test today in Crystal Zilch which is a popular bar in our region. They cheered at me and with that we left our school stationary building, I went into my new Tron Bike XR2 which is the super speed motorcycle. Grabbing the glasses thing and wear it, it detects my iris and automatically extended to be a helmet. I t

I wasn't sure who it was but somebody around here knew a biker club and next thing we knew these scary men and women were riding on motorcycles and taking residence in our town. They wore sleeveless jackets with lots of different color patches in the front and a logo on the back that was meant to scare everybody and called themselves The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club.