Lone Rider Mc Novels & Stories

Luckily, this hunter's family had minimal contact with others, and they probably wouldn't see through me. Seeing the fence with animal bones hanging about ten meters away, I guessed it was the home of the hunter, Zachary. Zachary was a renowned warrior of the Blue River Pack, who fought with five lion shifters in the woods seven years ago, saving his son Tony but injuring his leg. He retired from being the Alpha's guard and became a hunter. "Hello, are you the physician from Camila's clinic? Please come in." Zachary's figure was much more robust than an ordinary male wolf. He had a large beard, and he hobbled to us, sounding very anxious.

I have been a lone wolf since the alpha of the Moon Shadow pack disbanded and disowned me from the pack a hundred years ago because of my special and reliable ability that is one-of-a-kind; knowing everyone's truth and lies. "A hundred thousand dollars in exchange for the truth." I generously propose to the middle-aged man in front of me. "Excuse me?" asks the man before he glues his feet on the ground. He was simply passing through the corner of the same road with me but ended up getting a surprise proposal. Similar to this young woman with him, they convey these weird looks that are telling me that I might be some kind of psychopath or lunatic who wanders the street and randomly attacks an

Madam Amelia seemed to know this as she nodded her head at me. “Now what? You can’t break your vow. What will you do? You can’t have a Wolf Rider running around Astoria.” There it was. She knew what her daughter was. The half human part of it was the least of it. The fact that she was a Rider—a creature that could control a werewolf with a simple command. A creature that ruined my family's life. A creature, who must be destroyed before it gains power. There hasn't been a rider born in half a century, and even before, there was only one that ruled Astoria.

, two of which were currently facing off at the central compound that connected all the houses. "Hey, what's going on?" "Hey! Get outta my way I said I wanna see what's happening!" And here comes Carlos of the midnight wolves, a fan favorite among all his housemates, he is THE Predarian to have your back during a fight. He usually represents the 'pack' when his older brother isn't around. "Whoaaa, it's Carlos Grey. Looks like he's coming over to make some trouble. What should we do, Miss Evelyn?" A lanky looking white suit came walking to the scene all slow and nerdy, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

" We hold hands to navigate the crowd together, many unfortunately following us to the little building with merchandise and tickets. Off to the corner is a small concession stand, and we kill the wait by snacking and doodling in my sketchpad. Soon the engine and horn of the train can be heard. Chey wipes her crumby fingers on my dress and I playfully glare. We end up moving seats to am area where we can have a wall at our back. So many people roam about back and fourth from the gift area, some even knocking over our luggage. One particular strange man stands put above the rest, older and intriguing. A bit arrogant in his stride. He brushes too close to me in passing and I shudder. "There it

“And you, D? How was your trip?” “Well, K, it was productive,” I smirked. I’d been playing house with the boss of the MC that runs the next city over, Ashworth, a man with the road name Blaze. Blaze is an absolute twat of a man, I wouldn’t have been there if I didn’t have to be. The truth of the matter is that we had reason to believe someone in my club was working with Blaze, and I needed to find out who and why they were willing to betray me.

This was just the beginning, and our story was far from over. “Get on, we need to go,” Armando said, his voice firm yet laced with urgency. He leaned onto his motorcycle and kicked the kickstand up as I climbed onto the back, my fingers instinctively wrapping around his tight waist. I leaned my head against his back, feeling the cool leather of his jacket beneath my cheek. The bold logo of his crew stood out prominently—a devil in the center flanked by two pitchforks, all surrounded by the lettering: *Demented Devils MC*.

“Yes, Patrick. Yes. That is exactly what I think. I think you want to be criminals — I think you love being criminals.” “We don’t love being criminals—” “You do, I can tell. You don’t need the money from your, what even is it? Your cage matches?” “It’s just underground MMA, that’s all. It’s unregulated, that’s all it means.” He pulled over to the side of the road and looked me square in the eye. “Why do you think we do what we do, huh? Any of the Claws. Why do you think we do it?”

Steele asked "And how did we get so lucky?" Hunter asked "So, what's the name of your MC?" Raine asked. "Veterans MC." Jax replied. "Are you outlaws?" Kim asked. "No. Our businesses are all legit. We do not do guns or drugs. All our members are from one branch of the armed forces." Jax explained. "Good to know." Raine replied. "Just because we are bikers, doesn't mean we're delinquents. It doesn't automatically mean we break the law." Jax explained.

He didn't want to answer to someone else, especially a mate. Also he liked fucking to much to stick to one woman. Behind him, leather cuts emblazoned with the snarling wolf's head of the Iron Fangs rippled in the wind. To the human world passing by, they were just another MC running the roads they owned. None of them would notice how his riders' eyes caught the moonlight like struck matches or how their shadows stretched too long and lupine across the asphalt. Nobody noticed how terrifying they all were. They put fear in many and did care one bit.