The sun rose blood-orange over the horizon, casting long shadows across the parking lot. Rows of bikes sat silent like sentinels, and inside the clubhouse, a storm was quietly gathering.
Sami stood in the hallway, listening.
She’d been up since dawn—hadn’t really slept. Neither had Ace. He’d held her most of the night, their bodies wrapped so tight it felt like if one of them breathed wrong, they’d both unravel. No s*x. Just skin on skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. Survival.
Now, voices echoed from behind the chapel doors. The club was meeting—again. Ghost’s reveal had shaken them, but it wasn’t just about Morrigan. It was about trust. Direction. Power. And the kind of war you couldn’t win with fists.
Ace had wanted her to stay in bed.
She hadn’t listened.
When she opened the chapel doo
