img Rejected By Him, Claimed By The Emperor  /  Chapter 3 | 30.00%
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Chapter 3

Word Count: 815    |    Released on: Today at 17:52

ana

ned with dented trash cans. The cold night wind hit my cheeks, my

y hand bumped against somethin

st, its silver-free iron rim stained with his drying blood. As I stared at the stone, the memory of hi

just from the faint trace of wi

of the highway until I reached an auto repair shop and climbed the

e ledgers for the Club Fund-the central pot of money that paid for gas, bail, and monthly tribute-and she was the o

own half a glass of ice water, and told her ever

Alpha! Who does he think keeps his bike running? Without your salves and parts, t

id, closing my eyes and keeping the dang

hot shower. The spare key to this apartment is on the table

flashing Cleon's name. I hit decline, blocked his number wi

coffee. "Cleon smashed a whiskey glass against the wall when he found out you actually left the compound. Jazmyne told him y

cket and tight jeans, looking at my oil-free

leeches, I'm buying you the most expensive club sandwi

out. Along the way, column after column of heavy motorcycles roared past in the opposite lane. Every rider wore mat

easing off the gas. "Why are so many pa

cating wave of high-ranking dominance that made the hair o

nd the fire opal pin h

d open the glass door, the usual clatter of silverwar

ere massive, radiating the thick scents of prime Alphas and Betas. On their backs sat the three-piece Patch that made every outlaw

ce in front of me, her fingers slipp

st red leather booth reserved for the highe

across his collarbone that I had touched just last night. His cold gray eyes cut through the

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