Reapers Mc Novels & Stories

he whispered, hands framing my face, “you are the best thing that ever happened to me. From the moment I took you from that apartment, you changed everything.” I kissed him deeply, pouring every emotion into it. The kiss turned heated, desperate. He took me right there against the cold stone, slow and intense, the snow contrasting with the fire between us. We came together under the stars, whispering vows and promises for the future. Dawn brought the beginning of the end. The original Project Reaper facility was a tomb of concrete and forgotten horrors. Our forces hit hard and fast. Damien led the charge while I stayed back with the children in a secured command post, Elena at my side.

I am Rey Reed Smith, the last of the reaper's hunters and the wielder of the soul nectar. Taking another deep breath, I quickened my pace as the noise of those stupid crowds grew more intense. It was the same sound I'd grown accustomed to; it meant one of their most vicious and important players was about to slay his victims. My plan is simple. I will just brag into the arena ground, slaughter their players, rescue my team, kill the bastard, Ryan, and find my way out. I knew that with my newfound power, I was invisible to any weapons they were welding and that none of their players, not even Ryan, were a match for my abilities now.

The man grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, and a reporter’s voice filled the room. “…breaking news tonight. Sources confirm that prominent attorney Myles Voss is not the man he has claimed to be. Investigators allege that Voss is, in fact, the infamous ‘Reaper,’ leader of the outlaw motorcycle club Hellfangs. Federal agents have launched a manhunt following a deadly fire at a warehouse earlier this evening…” The screen cut to footage around my property. Agents and police swarmed over my lawn, and then came a still photo of Serena, smiling in a summer dress.

Drakon roars, pushing me flat against the sticky floorboards. He rises to a crouch, firing his handgun over the top of the bar. Pop-pop-pop. I scramble to my knees, peering through the gap between the beer taps. The front of the clubhouse is gone. A gaping maw of twisted metal and crumbled brick opens to the night. Through the smoke, shadows are moving. Reapers. They pour out of the back of the truck cab and through the breach in the wall. A dozen of them. Maybe more. They wear skull masks and carry assault rifles.

The man had finally managed to produce a child and he wanted me to stand in a hall and applaud. "Small man," I said. "Large occasion." Gary said nothing. That was the correct response. My throne had been built on the bodies of my father and my brothers, taken in the year I turned twenty-four, held through five years of war that hadn't fully ended. I had killed more men than I could name. The packs called me The Reaper and stayed out of my borders and prayed their treaties held. The elders said Moon Godness herself had cursed me, no fated mate, no heir, no future beyond the violence I was good at.

He didn’t say the name with love, that’s for sure. “I am.” Hunter nodded hesitantly. “How is Collin a reaper? What are reapers exactly?” Callie asked. “Reapers are kind of like special agents. Trained to deal with combat and other things. Reapers are normally sent out in groups to bring in the people on the list.” “They abduct people?” Callie’s eyebrow shifted up. “Kind of.” He nodded. “What do they do to the people they capture?” I asked hesitantly. “I don’t know.” Hunter replied, “Reapers are required to work on orders, no questions asked.”

That’s a record in itself. “Laura!” “Go.” I wave her off. “I’ll catch up. Promise.” She hesitates before turning back. “I’ll do a lap and meet you.” I don’t think my legs are going to last another lap. My chest constricts and puffs out at a rate I’ve never seen it move before. I place my hands on my hips and glance around the forest. In the distance, I spot the warehouse. Maxwell told me Alex and Damon are dead. Maxwell and Kayden took turns tearing them apart little by little.

Elara’s POV I roamed through the college campus, my boots dragging on the cobblestone walkways, my mind weighing down on me much more heavily than the backpack strapped across my back. The fall weather was dry with the smell of fallen leaves. Memories of my former life tore at me—my parents’ deaths, the chill of their coffins, the whisper of liquid silver that had stolen them three days after my eighteenth birthday. I’d been reborn to rewrite that destiny, to save them. Dad's shooting, the venom in his veins, was a warning  of history that had returned to where it started. I squeezed my notebook more tightly, the pages full of leads that went nowhere.

Without uttering a word, he walked towards her, “your leave my daughter alone. I am a powerful man.” The reaper turned around and looked at her dad, “don't you dare lift your hands for my dad.” The reaper turned, looked at her, and, in a deep voice, said, “I’m not here to hurt anyone. “ Four men who appeared out of nowhere, wearing suits, stood at the side of the doorway as a tall guy wearing a black suit, hair neatly combed to the back with the words tattooed death across his neck, stepped in. The reaper went down on one knee, looking downwards, “My lord,” the men in the grey suits went down on one knee and “My lord.” The man wearing a black suit had a twelve-centimeter scar down his face;

Kiera chuckled, “The reunion? Yeah, just opened it.” “Good then. You’ll be coming, right? No, no need to ask. You are definitely coming, Kii. I also heard Nicholas and Cristal are coming. Bet that’ll be a scene.” Kiera rolled her eyes even though her friend couldn’t see the look of disinterest and bore on her face. Ignoring her silence, Iris continued, “And oh! Did you notice the tiny print? It says everyone should bring their partners. Yapaoo! This would be a thriller!”