Isla's POV
"You think chains made of leather are better than chains made of gold?" I spat, my voice hoarse from sleeplessness.
Kyree didn't move from where he leaned against the doorway of the cabin, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers. His eyes flicked over me, storm-grey, unreadable. "At least mine don't pretend to shine."
I pulled the blanket tighter around me, though it did nothing against the chill crawling through my bones. The Brotherhood camp was buzzing outside, engines coughing, men shouting and the scrape of steel against steel. We were moving again, just like Kyree had promised. Always running, always hunted and still, they stared at me. Every time I stepped out, every glance was a curse. Cutter's sneer, the mutters behind my back.
"She'll ruin us." "Drake will gut us all because of her." "She's a death mark."
The words sank into me like knives. Kyree flicked his cigarette into the dirt, crushing it under his boot. "Ignore them."
"I can't." My voice cracked. "You think choking your own men into silence makes me safe? It doesn't. They'll still hate me. They'll still dream of the day you trade me to Drake to save their skins." His jaw tightened. "I don't trade what's mine."
I flinched. "I'm not yours." The bond betrayed me, searing heat through my chest. Ava howled inside, clawing at me... Mate. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting blood.
Kyree's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Tell that to your wolf."
I turned away, heart pounding. I hated him for being right. The Brotherhood grew restless by dusk. Bottles clinked, laughter was too loud, and engines were revving for no reason. The smell of whiskey and sweat choked the air. Cutter prowled like a wolf denied meat, his bruised throat mottled purple.
I was by the fire when it started. "You bring death here," Cutter snapped, his voice low but sharp enough to cut. "We should end it now before she dooms us all."
Kyree rose from where he sat, slow and deliberate, like a storm uncoiling. "You're still breathing, Cutter, which means you've got one chance left to shut the fuck up."
Cutter's lip curled. "You choke me once. You won't do it twice." The camp froze, silence a knife.
Then Kyree moved. One second, Cutter was standing tall; the next, his face was slammed against the hood of a bike, Kyree's forearm crushing down on his spine. Cutter roared, but it ended in a choke when Kyree's boot pinned his throat.
"Anyone else forget who leads this pack?" Kyree's voice was ice.
No one answered. Kyree pressed harder until Cutter's face scraped raw against steel, blood smearing across chrome. Then he stepped back, letting him crumple to the dirt.
"This is the last time I say it," Kyree growled, stormy eyes burning over the camp. "She stays. You don't like it? Walk. But speak against me again and I'll feed you your tongue."
The Brotherhood shifted, mutters dying. Cutter coughed blood into the dirt, but he didn't rise. Kyree lit another cigarette with steady hands. His control looked unbreakable, but I saw the crack. The twitch of his jaw and the rage in his grip.
He wasn't defending me, but he was defending his rule and that was worse.
That night, in the cabin he'd shoved me into, I couldn't hold it in. "You're no different from Drake," I hissed, my voice shaking.
Kyree's storm-grey eyes cut to me, sharp. "Careful."
"You terrify everyone around you, you choke men and you treat me like a weapon you won't let go. That's not saving me, Kyree. That's caging me."
He stepped closer, shadows swallowing his face. "You think Drake would've let you live past last night? I don't cage you. I keep you breathing."
"That's the same thing!" Tears burned down my cheeks, hot and furious. "Chains are still chains, no matter who holds them."
The bond flared, searing through my chest and dragging me closer. My knees trembled as Ava whimpered inside me. Kyree leaned down, his scar catching the firelight. "Chains are better than graves, little wolf."
I shoved him back, choking on rage. "Then bury me."
His storm-eyes flickered with pain and fury, then steel. He turned away, smoke curling from his lips. "One day, you'll thank me, or one day, you'll hate me enough to kill me. Until then, you're not going anywhere."
What I didn't see was the glint of a phone in the shadows. One of the Brotherhood, young and mean-eyed, leaned against his bike, snapping pictures through the crack in the cabin door. My face, pale in the firelight and Kyree's looming shadow, with the scar across his chest.
By morning, those photos that one of the Brotherhood took were gone and sold to the highest bidder.
Coby's POV
"Winters. You're fucked." My agent slammed a tablet down on the locker-room bench, screen bright with headlines. I wiped sweat from my face, still burning from practice. My jersey clung to my skin, skates heavy on my feet. "What now?" He jabbed the screen.
COBY WINTERS' MYSTERY GIRL? Hockey's golden boy linked to outlaw bikers in explosive photos.My stomach dropped. On the screen was her... Isla. Her face caught in grainy light, framed by fire. Her hair was tangled, eyes wide, wrapped in a blanket like she'd been dragged from hell and behind her was the unmistakable Kyree Blackthorn, outlaw king. Immediately, my heart stopped.
"Fuck," I whispered. My wolf, Bryan, surged inside me, howling so loud I staggered. "Our mate... Our mate. She's ours."
I clenched the bench, breath ragged. The agent kept talking in a sharp voice. "You need to deny it fast. Distance yourself. This girl, whoever she is. She's poison. You get tied to outlaw trash, your career's done."
My fists shook. "She's not trash." The agent blinked. "Excuse me?"
I looked again at the photo. Her face, her eyes and even through pixels, I felt the bond snap tight across miles, dragging me under.
I couldn't breathe without her. "She's mine," I whispered.
Bryan howled, savage with need. "You need to find her, claim her and protect her."
The agent swore, throwing his hands up. "Jesus, Coby, don't do this. You get tangled in that world and it's not just your career you'll lose. It's your life."
I ignored him. My wolf clawed against my skin, every instinct screaming to run and to tear down whatever walls stood between us, but I couldn't and not yet. Cameras waited outside and reporters were already circling there. One wrong move and the world would know the truth.
I stared at her face again and my chest split open.
"Hold on," I whispered, too quiet for anyone but Jaxon to hear. "I'm coming for you."
Isla's POV
The cabin felt smaller than ever. I sat in front of the cracked mirror, tracing the jagged line of my reflection. Outside, engines revved and laughter rose and fell. But I felt it, the shift in the air. The Brotherhood stares harder and whispers are even sharper this time. Something had changed.
Kyree stalked past the door, muttering to himself, cigarette smoke curling through the cracks. His wolf simmered beneath his skin, restless and angry.
Ava shifted inside me, uneasy. Eyes are on us now, too many eyes. I lifted my gaze to the mirror. My own face stared back, pale and hollow, but behind it, I swore I saw fire catching. The knock came first, then the door banged open. One of the younger bikers grinned, phone in hand. "Congratulations, sweetheart. You're famous."
He tossed the phone onto the floor. The screen lit up with headlines, my face splashed across it. WHO IS THE MYSTERY GIRL? OUTLAW OMEGA TIED TO COBY WINTERS' SECRET!
My breath caught... Coby. His name was like a ghost I hadn't thought I'd ever hear again. Kyree ripped the phone from the floor, his storm eyes blazing. He smashed it against the wall, pieces scattering like shrapnel, but it was too late. The world had seen me. I pressed my forehead against the cracked glass, whispering, "Why does the world only see me when it's too late?" When the human world drags Isla into the spotlight, whose claim will shatter first, Kyree's, Drake's, or Coby's?