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

“Then don’t kick him out.” “The thing is, baby girl, he loves that club more than he ever loved me. When they needed him, he ran away. He came home and curled up in my lap, telling me how sorry he was with how pathetic he was.” Her mother’s tears broke Chloe’s heart. “I never wanted to divorce him. I didn’t fall in love with him because of a leather cut. I loved him long before he thought he wanted to be a biker.” “But you still love him.”

As we picked up speed, the bikers wove their way into the tree line, following an almost indistinguishable trail that led them further into the heavily wooded area behind the compound. Over their roar, the sound of an explosion ripped through the air, causing Satan to shout over his shoulder at me, "Hang on, Kitten, Hell's started raining assholes with teeth." A few seconds later, I realized his words were an understatement, as having kicked their bikes into gear, Satan, and the two remaining team members who had stayed with us, headed straight into the fracas. The sound of bullets hitting the ground, as well the bark on the trees, was intermingled with loud blasts that rocked the ground ben

Mateo had created too much noise for law enforcement not to notice. It also changed how we could move. Every convoy, every unfamiliar truck, every cluster of bikes had a better chance of getting noticed now. Open war was getting harder to hide, and Mateo had created that problem for himself too. By two fifteen, the long table downstairs had stopped belonging to the Black Daggers. Daggers filled one side. Brian and Tag brought boxes of old Vipers records. Max and Emilio arrived dusty from Nowhere with maps instead of attitudes. Camden represented the Iron Saints with two men. The Steel Reapers came last with their president and road captain.

“It’s not like that.” “Isn’t it?” Chloe pressed. “How many of them are you with? I’ve heard there are at least three who are really into you. That’s not love; that’s just a rotation.” “You don’t understand,” I replied quietly. “I understand that you’re making a huge mistake. I understand that you’re getting wrapped up in something dangerous and illegal. These men are criminals, Alina. They aren’t heroes. They’re not romantic. They’re just—”

Only Damion can turn a battlefield into romance. I read the card. You know me – my guilt ... my demons ... my scars ... but as long as you stand next to me, they seem not so scary.I'm not a perfect prince on a white horse - I'm a devil on a black bike. But I'm real, and I'm yours. Forever. My belly-up heart flutters and purrs. He’s my broken San Francisco boy. Not perfect. Not even close. But he’s mine. Exactly the way he is.

Damn it, Lesha, this is why you're still single, I think to myself. I look up at him, and to my surprise, his eyes darken and he smiles. "That can't be true, because you are really fucking beautiful." he says. It is silent for a while after he said that, because I had no reply for that. He sighs. "I'm sorry if that freaked you out, why don't we just dance?" he asks in a low husky voice. I nod, and he takes my hands, just as I hear Xeno's favorite song came on, I can f**k you all time by Jeremih ft lil Wayne. I smile, remembering how she taught me how to dance to it. I am feeling really confident while dancing to this song, but then again, that could just be the alcohol in my system.

But I doubted he’d last long if they didn't get medical help. “Mara,”Cain’s voice cut through the bar. “Get the med kit. Grim, shut that damn door.” I scoffed, astonished,"What now? You guys suddenly switched from being bikers to doctors?” I asked, my gaze darting between all of them. No one looked alarmed, and that was when I understood this was nothing new to them. Mara brought the kit without question, ignoring all that I had said. For some stupid reasons, I thought she’d be on my side. But who was I kidding? She was clearly loyal to these bikers. What the hell have I really gotten myself into?

I snort laughing. “Thank you, I think.” “You’re inviting us now,” another woman says immediately. “I actually was going to,” I admit. “If you guys want to come.” Natalie gasps dramatically. “I’ve never been to a biker wedding.” “It’s not really a biker wedding,” I correct. “Are there tattoos?” she asks “Yes.” “Hot men with beards?” “…probably.” “Then it’s a biker wedding.” she insists The group laughs.

"But Duke? I'm pretty sure I'll say yes." "Pretty sure?" "Ninety-nine percent sure." "I'll take those odds." He pulled her close again. "I love you, Valentine Ross. My Valentine." "I love you too." She pressed her face to his chest. "My bad boy biker." Outside, the night was quiet. Peaceful. The kind of peace that comes after surviving a storm. Inside the clubhouse, Duke and Valentina held each other, two people who'd been broken and rebuilt, who'd faced their demons and won.

We bypassed the Great Hall, where the remaining Council members were undoubtedly debating our fate, and headed for the underground garage. The roar of the engines was the only howl we needed. Matteo mounted his custom black Harley, the chrome gleaming like a weapon in the dim light. He looked at me, reaching out a hand. I didn't hesitate. I swung onto the back of the bike, my arms wrapping around his waist, my chest pressed against his back. The bond flared—a violent, electric connection that told me his wolf was ready for the slaughter. "Hang on," he growled over the thunder of the exhaust.