CLAIMED BY THE REAPER KING

CHAPTER 3

Knox’s shadow fell over me like a shutter dropping, cutting off the glare of his headlight. He towered there in the damp alley, rain dripping off the collar of his leather cut. Behind him, Drake remained perched on his bike, his hands resting casually near his handlebars, eyes narrow and calculating.

"What were you doing talking to an Iron Viper, Raven?" Knox’s voice was dangerously quiet, vibrating low against the brick wall at my back. "And what is that in your hand?"

I tucked Jaxon’s notebook deeper into the lining of my coat, but I did not hide the stiff, blood-crusted piece of leather. I thrust the torn patch right into his chest.

"This was in Jaxon’s locker," I said, my voice cutting through the hum of idling engines. "It belongs to your club, Knox. It is soaked in blood, and my brother died trying to hide it. Are you still going to tell me he took a jump off that bridge for fun?"

Knox’s jaw tightened. He reached out and snatched the patch from my fingers, his knuckles brushing mine with a sudden, cold friction. He stared down at the dried stain, his expression completely closed off.

"You do not know what you are looking at, Raven," he said flatly.

"Then explain it to me," I demanded, stepping into his space. "Tell me why Colt knows more about my family than you do. Tell me why Jaxon was terrified of his own shadow for the last two weeks."

Drake cleared his throat, letting out a dry, humorless chuckle from his bike. "She is loud for someone who has been gone five years, Knox. Maybe she needs an escort back to the highway."

"Shut up, Drake," Knox growled without looking back. He folded the patch into his palm and met my eyes again. "Not here. You want real answers? Drive to the compound. Follow us, or go back to your city. It is your choice."

He turned on his heel, swinging back onto his machine. I did not hesitate. I sprinted back to my sedan, kicked the engine to life, and tailed their three red taillights down the winding mountain road.

The Reaper Kings clubhouse sat on the edge of the county, hidden behind high chain-link fencing topped with razor wire. Two armed guards standing at the heavy iron gate tried to wave my car down, but I did not hit the brakes. I rode right on Knox’s rear tire, forcing the guards to swing the gates open wide to avoid a wreck.

I parked recklessly across two spaces, slammed my door, and marched up the wooden steps of the main building. The smell of stale beer, exhaust fumes, and tobacco hit me like a wall as I pushed through the front lounge. A dozen patched members stared as I stormed past them toward the heavy double doors at the back.

"Hey, you cannot go in there!" a burly biker yelled, reaching for my arm.

I shoved his hand off and kicked the double doors wide open.

The private meeting room went dead silent. Six senior officers sat around a thick oak table, drinks in hand, map prints spread across the wood. Knox stood at the head of the table. Drake sat to his left, leaning back with a bottle of whiskey in his grip.

"What the hell is this?" an older member named Big Mike growled, half-rising from his chair.

"Raven," Knox said, his voice dropping into that quiet, terrifying register. "Get out."

"I am not leaving," I said, stepping up to the edge of the table. I unzipped my jacket, pulled out Jaxon’s black spiral notebook, and slammed it down flat against the oak.

"My brother was murdered," I announced, looking every single man in the eye. "He found Dad’s missing ledger, he uncovered routes your club is running through Viper territory, and he died for it. And half of you are sitting here pretending it was just a sad suicide."

Drake slammed his whiskey bottle onto the wood, liquid sloshing over his fingers. "She is out of her mind, Knox. She has been in the city too long. She comes back here, listens to Viper lies, and throws garbage on our chapel table? Get her out of Blackwood before she runs to the cops."

"I do not need the cops," I snapped, glaring down at Drake. "I know the club rules, Drake. My father was a patched member for twenty years. My brother was on the track to patch. Under the legacy bylaws, any surviving immediate family member has the right to claim a prospect spot to clear a fallen member’s debt."

A sharp, collective intake of breath echoed around the table. Big Mike blinked in shock. Drake laughed out loud, leaning forward.

"A prospect? You?" You are a civilian girl in a designer coat. You would not last twenty-four hours carrying our gear, let alone riding night shifts."

"Try me," I said, holding his gaze. "Put the vest on me. Let me work the prospect shifts. If I cannot handle it, I walk away. But if I stay, I get access to the club books and the truth about Jaxon."

Drake turned to Knox, his face turning red. "Tell her no, Knox. This is ridiculous. We do not patch women, and we sure as hell do not let civilians run investigations inside our house."

Knox did not answer immediately. He slowly pushed himself off his chair and walked the length of the table toward me. His heavy boots echoed against the floorboards. He stopped right in front of me, his massive frame blocking out the light from the overhead lamps. He looked down into my eyes, searching for any sign of weakness, any hesitation.

"You think this is a game, Raven?" Knox whispered, his voice dangerously low. "You think putting on a patch gives you answers? If you take that oath, you are not my friend’s daughter anymore. You are not my ward. You do not get special treatment. You sleep on the floor, you take the worst shifts, and you obey every order given by every patched member in this room."

I did not flinch. "Do it."

Knox stared at me for three agonizing seconds. Then, without breaking eye contact, he reached over to a heavy iron wall hook behind him.

He yanked down a thick, oversized leather prospect vest, blank except for a white bottom rocker tag. He slammed it down on the center of the oak table right over Jaxon's notebook.

"Your initiation starts right now," Knox said, his voice ringing out through the room like iron on stone. "Pick up the leather, or get out of my sight. And if you break under the weight, Raven, I will personally throw you out of this town myself."