CLAIMED BY THE ROAD DEVIL.

Episode 4

The door to Devil’s Den hadn’t been closed for thirty seconds before Isla was on her feet.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sasha asked, grabbing her wrist.

“I’m not sitting here while he—”

“While he does what he does best?” Sasha’s eyes were sharp, but not unkind. “Baby, if Riven says stay, you stay. He’s not doing this to control you. He’s doing it so Marcus doesn’t touch you.”

Isla sank back onto the stool. Her hands shook around the water glass.

“I should have called the police.”

“You did,” Sasha said. “And they didn’t help. Riven will.”

Outside, the Harley roared to life. Then another. And another. The sound of the MC rolling out made the windows rattle.

Isla closed her eyes. _Please don’t let him get hurt. Please don’t let Marcus find me._

Five minutes passed. Ten. The jukebox kept playing, but no one was talking. The whole clubhouse was listening for the sound of trouble.

Then the door banged open.

Riven walked in first. His cut was scuffed. His knuckles were split. But he was smiling. That slow, dangerous smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Behind him, Gunner dragged Marcus by the collar.

Marcus looked broken. Lip split, eye swelling, shirt torn. He saw Isla and lunged.

“Isla! Baby, tell them—”

Gunner slammed him against the bar. “Shut your mouth.”

The room went silent again.

Riven didn’t look at Marcus. He looked at Isla. His gaze ran over her face, checking for damage, for fear. When he saw she was okay, his shoulders dropped half an inch.

“Did he touch you?” Riven asked quietly.

Isla shook her head.

“Did he say your name?”

She nodded.

Riven’s jaw ticked. He finally turned to Marcus.

“You’ve been looking for her,” Riven said, voice calm. Too calm. “Asking around town. Telling people she’s crazy. Telling them she ran from you.”

“She did run!” Marcus spat. “She’s my fiancée! She’s unstable, she needs help—”

“She needs you to stay the hell away from her,” Riven cut in.

He stepped closer. Marcus flinched.

“Here’s how this works,” Riven went on. “You leave Red Hollow. Tonight. You don’t call her. You don’t text her. You don’t tell anyone where she is. You forget her name.”

“You can’t—”

“I can.” Riven’s hand shot out, fisting Marcus’s shirt. He lifted him off the ground. “I’m the President of the Road Devils. This is my town. And Isla is under my protection.”

He threw Marcus down. Gunner and two other Devils hauled him up.

“Take him to the county line,” Riven ordered. “Make sure he crosses it.”

“Riven, you can’t—” Marcus started.

Gunner punched him. Not hard enough to knock him out. Just hard enough to shut him up.

They dragged him out. The door slammed.

Silence.

Then Riven turned back to Isla.

She was staring at him. At the blood on his knuckles. At the coldness in his eyes that had just melted the second he looked at her.

“You didn’t have to—” she started.

“Yes, I did,” Riven said. He crossed to her in three strides. “He’s gone, Isla. He won’t come back.”

Isla stood. Her legs were unsteady. “What if he does?”

“Then I’ll do it again.” Riven reached for her, then stopped himself. His hands hovered near her arms, not touching. “May I?” he asked, like always.

Isla didn’t answer with words. She stepped into him.

Riven exhaled. His hands came up, framing her face. His thumbs brushed her cheeks.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

“I’m not scared,” Isla whispered. “I’m just… tired of running.”

“I know.” His forehead touched hers. “You don’t have to run anymore.”

For a moment, they just breathed together. The whole clubhouse watching, but not saying a word.

Then Riven pulled back. He took her hand, laced their fingers together.

“Come on. I’m taking you home.”

“Riven—”

“I’ve got you, Isla.” He lifted their joined hands, pressed another kiss to her knuckles. “Always.”

He led her out of Devil’s Den, past the stares, past the whispers. Past the life she’d been running from.

And for the first time, Isla didn’t look back.