Chapter 53 Reaper
Reaper
Ifelt the world shift the moment Lucy’s lips found mine, bold, fierce, like a storm I never wanted to fight. Heat blazed through me, lighting every nerve on fire. Around us, the brothers hooted and hollered, boots stomping, bottles clinking against wood, but none of that mattered.
It was her claiming me, marking me as hers.
I wrapped my arms tight around her, pulling her closer and showing her I wasn’t just there to be claimed. I was hers, completely.
When we finally broke apart, I glanced around the room.
Finn’s grin was wolfish as he raised his beer in salute.
Maria let out a piercing whistle, shaking her head with mock exasperation.
Riot sat back in his chair, unreadable behind those damn shades, but he didn’t look away.
Spider’s jaw ticked. Keno leaned towards him, muttering something low, the kind of whisper that bred trouble.
The other prospects avoided my eyes, pretending not to care but watching all the same.
Some nodded, some smirked, but every one of them saw it. Lucy was mine. And damn, it felt good to know I was hers.
“Damn right, you’re not going anywhere,” I said, my voice thick with everything I felt but couldn’t put into words.
The bar hummed softly, the storm giving way to quieter conversations. The stink of blood, sweat, and whiskey hung in the air, but it wasn’t chaos anymore. It was survival. It was family. Maria shoved a rag and bottle of peroxide into my hands, but before I could say a word, Lucy snatched them.
“Sit,” she ordered, eyes flashing.
I raised a brow but dropped onto the barstool anyway. She pressed the rag to my split knuckles, her touch gentle even when the sting made me hiss.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered.
“Yeah,” I said, watching her, not the blood, “but I’m your idiot.”
For a second, her hand faltered and a small smile tugged at her lips. I knew I’d landed the hit better than any punch I threw that night.
I leaned against the worn wood of the bar, the weight of the day finally pressing down on me. My body ached, my bruises screamed, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
Lucy moved through the room like she belonged there, checking wounds with a touch that was soft but sure.
Sharp eyes, steady hands. She scolded Keno for trying to wave her off then made him sit down anyway.
Even Riot let her dab at a cut near his temple, not saying a word, which told me more than a speech ever could.
She wasn’t just tolerated. She was becoming the heart of the room, the pulse that kept it from bleeding out, and I hadn’t seen it coming until it was too late.
Watching her, I felt something fierce and fragile twist inside me. How the hell did she become the centre of the club? And how the hell did I let myself fall that hard?
The war with the Fangs was over. The Dead Knights could finally breathe, think about rebuilding, maybe even go legit someday. Even with the future stretching ahead, one shadow remained.
Lucy.
Would she walk away now and go back to a life without this chaos and without me? Or would she choose my world, choose us, and damn the consequences?
I shook off the doubt, forcing myself to focus on what was real at that moment. She was here. She belonged here. I just had to hold on tight and make sure she didn’t slip away.
Her eyes caught mine from across the room, and there was a flicker of something unspoken. A promise, or maybe a question. I lifted my glass towards her in a silent toast.
To new beginnings.
To fighting for what mattered.
To us.
As she returned my look with that small, knowing smile, I let myself believe that was the start of something worth holding on to.