The Biker's True Love: Lords Of Chaos Novels & Stories

Beautiful. Behind us, explosions. The facility collapsing. Imploding. Burning. Taking everything with it. Victoria. Rookie. Jax. All buried under tons of concrete and fire. We kept running. Away from the blast zone. To where Marco's army waited. Thirty bikers. Iron Serpents. Desert Reapers. Bratva soldiers. All watching the facility burn. We stopped. Caught our breath. Watched the place that had been our prison. Our hell. Collapse.

Legend had it that long ago, the Lycan Lord of Chaos emerged during a time of unprecedented darkness. In those days, chaos reigned, and powerful malevolent forces threatened to obliterate our kind. It was then that the Lycan Lord, a figure of immense strength and cunning, stepped forward to challenge the darkness. His bravery and strategic prowess in battle earned him the title of the Lycan Lord of Chaos.

Adonis replied, feeling sorry for Richard. Adonis knew that Father Light and Mother Universe loved Chaos and Light beings equally. He was aware that his parents had bestowed upon some gods predestined Mates. Once the mate bond formed, there was nothing anyone could do. Only the High Gods had a choice and could reject their Mate. It was strange that his daughter had not rejected Richard. In fact, she removed her protective runes and ran away with the hybrid demon.

"That's not our contact here in Owensboro, we need to get outta here." "How do you know?" she asked. To her it was amazing that someone could differentiate motorcycles based on sound alone. "Those are European bikes. You can tell by the volume of the rumble. It's probably the Vojnik." "The who?" she asked, hopping on behind him and grabbing him securely around the waist. "Bosnian for soldier. They are the local Bosnian biker gang, we ain't exactly friendly. They're probably trying to steal the shipment," he flashed her what could only described as a bad boy smile. "We stole one of theirs last week."

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

"Kill members from both sides. Make it look like each club is attacking the other." "Why?" Lisa asked. "What does he gain?" "Chaos. War means money. Means the old ways stay in power." Viper leaned against the wall. "Reaper never wanted legitimacy. Never wanted peace. He wants blood and territory and the life he knows." "So he's willing to kill his own people for it?" "Reaper doesn't see anyone as 'his people' except himself." I looked around the room. "We need to find him. Now. Before he makes another move."

Only bad things bring everyone together—like death. Every time a biker dies, they all return to lay him to rest. Even the retired ones. Even those who’ve walked away. As for the Sons of Chaos MC, I don’t know much about them,just that they’re the richest biker group across the states. They own more businesses than any other MC, and they’re also the most populated. I’ve seen them fill up an entire bar before, and I once overheard Daisy and Matt saying that wasn’t even half of their members.

Strength, speed, durability, tactical brilliance. When I pull back, his eyes are pure black. "Damn." "Yeah." I sway slightly, and he catches me. "Okay. That was more draining than expected." "You good to fight?" Doc moves closer, concerned. "I'm good." I straighten, drawing on my power to steady myself. "This is the moon's full. I've got plenty of reserves." "Then let's ride." Ryder swings onto his bike. Engines roar to life. Twenty motorcycles, twenty enhanced wolves, and one divine vessel riding toward war.

The two drivers opened their doors and got out, walking towards me as well. “We don’t want any trouble, we are just lackeys in everything.” They held up their hands in surrender, holding still as I stalked past them to the van. I swung open the side door, its hinges protesting loudly. There was nothing inside except for road block equipment, vests, and someone’s half eaten sandwich. “Son of a bitch!” I slammed the door home and turned to the two wolves. I knew they were Black Haven, the stench of licorice was strong on them. The two bikers had joined the others, more than likely feeling safety in numbers. They were slight and about a good half foot or more shorter than me, making them as mor