Forsaken Motorcycle Club 소설 & 이야기

Or that the wishing ribbons wouldn't work if he brought them away from the chapel grounds? I sat in the hospital bed anxiously while Hal played some mobile games next to me. While gaming, he said, "I was just wondering who it could be, daring to challenge me again. Turns out, it's Finnegan Churchill, the faker." Faker? Hal could tell that I was surprised without even having to look at me. "Don't you know? Apparently, he used to be the least favored son in his family and even turned blind afterward. "It was one of my dad's students who begged him to come out of retirement and save his eyesight through surgery. And guess what happened in the end? After he took over the Churchill family, he aba

Their clothing was rough, worn, and their expressions hardened by years of survival in the wild. But what struck me the most was the way they carried themselves—with a quiet, deadly confidence that could only come from years of fighting for their lives. “Sera,” Rowan said, turning to me. “These are the Rogues of Blackthorn. They’ve been operating in the shadows for years, hiding from the same forces that threaten Silverwood now. They have no love for Alaric or his dark magic. They’ve agreed to help us… for a price.” My gaze flicked over the group, my mind racing. Rogues. These were the wolves who had rejected pack life, choosing to live by their own rules, free from any Alpha’s control.

The entire pack wallowed in the criminal. He and Malcolm had their kinks, but they didn’t make a business out of trading in it. The Crimson Nights ran a private club for supernaturals and catered to their kinks. Anything from blood dolls, women who enjoyed being fed off of. To those searching for pain and torture. Those were extremes, but the club specialized in milder things as well. Jordan frequented the club’s milder side in the past. He had no problem with that. What he had an issue with was the rumours the people serving were trafficked, and it wasn’t their choice.

He clocked the man’s short, dark hair, tattooed forearms, and – oh, joy of all joys – the Road Devils motorcycle club patch on his leather cut. Claire’s neighbor is a goddamn MC member. Awesome. To be totally fair, though, if Griff had to go and deal with an MC – motorcycle club – guy, he’d choose one from The Road Devils in a heartbeat. The current club President, Wolf Connor, had spent the past year or so busting his ass to extract the MC from shady activities and from what Griff had heard, Connor had succeeded. He’d severed all ties with Kirk Jensen, Denver’s shittiest, sleaziest piece of sleazy shit, a guy who was into drugs, prostitution, sex trafficking, rape and murder. It had been a

"Talk." Maya threw her bag on the bed and sat down next to it. "Some guys from a motorcycle club helped me. They had a shop. Fixed my bike. End of story." "Which motorcycle club?" "Does it matter?" "Yes it matters. There are like three different clubs in this city and they're all bad news." Riley crossed her arms and did her I'm not leaving until you tell me face. "Which one?" "Iron Wolves." Riley's eyes went huge. "Are you serious right now?" Damn!!!

impaling. You don't become the leader of a motorcycle club from being tender and caring, but I've seen nothing but that from Dominick. We grew up together and when his father and my mother separated, he came to live with us against his father's wishes. It's the reason his father sent him to Pelican Bay. Maine wasn't known for its thriving motorcycle clubs. His Colorado family considered running this small club his penance for the betrayal. Now he'd never take the reins from his father and inherit the large club he left in Colorado.

Because he knew that once they knew, there'd be a chance that he was going to lose the two persons he was already falling for. "I was the VP, vice president, of one of the most notorious biker clubs in the city. We were outlaws and we stayed close to the local cartels. We were a business but also a brotherhood. Back then we worked for local cartels and were getting introduced to the Russian mob that was controlling the city." Rockford paused trying to read his lovers' reaction. He had already told Dee about his situation but he was about to tell it in a more detailed manner.

She who liked reading about dragons, and other mystical creatures doesn’t believe in coincidences. What she do believe in was fate/faith. Lem could only look at Serena. As much as he wanted to tell her what would happen, he could not. It was for her to discover her true path. There were too many things that were happening. Some of them were things the queen have not even mentioned. Lem, had to sigh, sooner or later, Serena had to know that there was a group of dragons living in the same country as she had. RagTag MC was one of the most well-known shifter groups in the land. They were also the only Were/Shifter Motorcycle Club. They have no connection to the Were Nation, which makes them a da

“Rico’s been dealing with traitors. And a motorcycle club causing trouble on our territory.” I frowned. “Motorcycle club?” “MC,” he clarified. “They’re stronger in the south… Texas, New Mexico, Florida, but they’ve started creeping this way. Rico wanted me to check what our local chapter’s been up to. We caught one of them. He had a knife.” I bit my lip. “You went yourself?” He gave a humorless smile. “That’s why your father will never be more than a cautious man. If you want loyalty, you don’t sit on the sidelines. You bleed along with your men.”