Chrome and Claws
The survivors dragged the wounded back to their bikes, fury boiling in their eyes.
When they rolled back into the clubhouse, the air was thick with rage.
Reed stood in the lot, waiting, But when he counted the bodies, his jaw tightened. He didn’t speak not at first.
Then his gaze slid to Raven. “Always you,” he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
Her wolf snarled at the injustice, but she forced herself to swallow the fire. The Circle would feast on this. Two more dead, and she was still breathing.