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The Biker King's Bride  Novel Cover

The Biker King's Bride

Elena’s life takes a dangerous turn when she is forced into a marriage with Jax, the ruthless leader of the Iron Skulls motorcycle gang. Caught between her desire for freedom and the dark allure of her new husband, she must navigate a world of mafia wars and brutal betrayals. As secrets emerge, Elena discovers that her connection to Jax is deeper than she imagined. She must decide if she will run from the chaos or embrace her role as the Biker King’s bride.
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Chapter 2

Vivienne’s POV

Time seemed to slow to a halt, with everyone rooted in their spots. I really would have thought the world had frozen in place, until the next series of events followed.

The leader of the gang nodded behind me, and apparently, that was all the other members needed to act. One by one, they filed behind their leader, obviously on their way to go fight whoever had dared to interrupt them.

“What?” The stranger's voice again. “Isn't he going to fight me as well? I didn't exactly take him to be a coward.”

The leader in question let out a low growl, and I took that as my opportunity to escape. I kicked him in the groin, and he staggered backwards, giving me ample time to duck out of his grip.

A wave of relief flowed through me, but it didn't last long.

“Get back here.” He snarled, his hand digging into my shoulder and keeping me put. I yelped in pain, and I realized I wasn't the only one getting a rough time.

The mystery stranger was having a field day with the others. I watched as he shoved and kicked the other men aside, without lifting a finger.

While the others were panting like wounded lions, my savior was yet to break into a sweat and I found it incredibly sexy.

“Stay here.” Something clawed at my throat as handcuffs came down on my wrists immediately. Their leader gazed around for a while before cuffing me to the door handle. ‘ill deal with you later.”

“No!” I thrashed, pulling the handcuffs as furiously as I could. Of course, it didn't help. All it did was press the cold steel into my skin. “Let me go! Get me out of here!’

“I'll deal with you.” The leader took a pathetic glance at the rest of his men who had been beaten and sprawled to the ground. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You'll see.” The stranger shrugged, a sly expression on his face. The sun was setting already, thereby taking its light with it, but I still caught a glance at my Savior.

A mop of blonde hair sat at the top of his head. A couple of strands fell across his face from time to time, but it did nothing to hide the emerald pop of his eyes. His nose was arched upward a bit, but you could tell it had been broken one too many times. A lip ring grazed his lower lip, and when his lips lifted into a smile, not only did I catch a dimple on his left cheek, I felt my heart going into overdrive too.

With his perfectly cut jaw and black ink that swirled around both arms, it was safe to say he looked like sin itself, and I didn't just want a taste, I wanted all of him.

He must have noticed me staring, because his gaze flickered towards me. I would be lying if I said I wasn't mesmerized. I knew I should look away, but I didn't.

“Arghhh!” The leader growled, pulling both me and my rescuer back to the present. I had no idea how long had passed, but when I caught sight of the wooden baton in his grip, I just knew that wasn't a good sign. “Come and fight me.”

“Gladly.” Mr Hot and tattooed grinned. In the blink of an eye, he landed him a punch to the face, causing the leader to fall flat onto the pavement.

A yelp bubbled at the base of my throat, but it didn't get out. Not even as he continued to pound more and more punches into his face.

Only when he'd passed out, did he finally let go of him, and even at that, i didn't miss the sticky trail of blood that clung to his fingers and the hem of his tank top.

A shiver ran down my spine as realization hit me square in the jaw. He might have beaten my captives to unconsciousness or worse, but now we were alone.

I had no idea who he was, and what if he suddenly decided that he was no better than the animals who'd decided to attack me? If he wanted to, he could take advantage of me right now, and it made my skin prickle.

All of my thoughts came to a hold as he walked towards me. Each of his steps were painfully slow, and when he finally stopped in front of me, I flinched.

My breath hitched in my throat as he leaned towards me, forcing me to take a couple of steps back. There was only so far I could go, thanks to the handcuffs holding me back.

Goosebumps raced down my spine as he held my gaze, his eyes boring deeper and deeper into my soul. His cologne wasted no time in wafting through my nostrils, and I took in the musky, yet tangy scent.

A loud snap pulled me out of my daydream, and I popped my eyes open to the sight of the handcuffs falling away. Without so much as a word or another glance in my direction, he spun on his heels, and started walking away.

I stood rooted in my spot, and I had no idea why. The murmur of a thanks hung on the tip of my throat, but I just couldn't bring myself to say it.

As he walked away, something caught my eye. At the back of his leather jacket was a huge drawing of a vulture and something scribbled underneath it.

“The Iron Vultures.” They were one of the most influential biker clubs in the city.

No, scratch that. The entire state, and only a fool would willingly cross them.

They were known for their ruthlessness and constant thirst for blood, so why did he help me, and their president at that too?

When he'd come closer, I'd caught sight of a small name tag.

Ronan Reaper Calloway.

His reputation definitely preceeded him because, up until this moment I had no idea who he was.

Or how hot he looked either.

An idea popped at the back of my mind, and I decided to jump on it immediately.

By the time I had gotten a hold of myself, Ronan had walked quite a distance, but I didn't let that stop me.

My feet wobbled as I trailed after him, and only when we stopped in front of a bar did I pause to catch my breath.

A neon sign that read The Iron Vultures cast a warm glow against the almost empty street. The lights in the distance flickered on and off, but the sign remained still, almost like a sanctuary, but I knew better.

The bar wasn't exactly run down, and from my spot on the outside, I didn't miss the rock music, and the loud cheers from the patrons inside.

“You can do this,Vee.” I muttered to myself, before summoning the courage and pushing open the doors.

Dim lights barely lit up the room, and I felt humid the moment I walked in. The air was mix of sweat and smoke, and I briefly wondered what I'd just gotten myself into.

The stale stench of whiskey hit me square in the jaw, and I fought the urge to gag. Heavily tattooed men of different sizes littered the place, and if there was anything they had in common, it was the many beers and drinks in front of them. They all turned to me, their gazes making my skin crawl, but I ignored it, making my way to the front.

“I'm looking for Ronan.” I blurted out the words to the bartender up front. He was an old lad, but it didn't make him any less dangerous. “I want to talk to him.”

“Who do we have here?” One of them whistled from behind me. “Did Ronan bring in a new toy for us to play with?”

“She is a little different from what we're used to.” One of the men slid into an empty seat beside me. He reeked of cigarettes and whatnot, but what I didn't expect, was him tracing a finger down my arm. “But she'll just have to do.”

“Unhand her, Marcus.” Someone growled from the corner, and I recognized the voice immediately. “You already have women waiting for you.”

I turned, and even though I knew who to expect, the sight of him wasn't something I would be getting used to anytime soon.

Ronan sat in a secluded corner, his back against a comfy couch. Wisps of smoke danced across his face, but I didn't miss the piercing gaze he threw my way.

I never liked cigarettes, but now, I was inclined to say I did.

Ronan made smoking hot. In fact, he made me hot.

“Are you going to stand there all day.” He drawled. “Or actually tell me why the fuck you're here?”

“I need you help.” I took the empty seat in front of him. “I need you to…”

“I didn't ask you to sit.” He cut me off. “You have quite some audacity coming in here.”’

“I didn't ask for permission either.” The words tumbled past my lips before I realized it.

“Ouuu, she's feisty.” Catcalls filled the air. “I want her.”

“Shut up!” He hissed. “What do you want?”

“I need you to protect me.” I let out. “My life is in danger and you're the only one who can help.”

“And what do I get in return?” His arms fell across the table that separated us. He'd lost the jacket somewhere in between his and my arrival, and his tattoos looked way more sexy up close. “I don't run a charity organization here.”

“Marriage.” I puffed out the words. “You get to marry me.”

A wave of silence settled all around us. Anxiety gnawed at my sides, and I wondered if I'd just made the wrong decision.

Before I could get an answer from myself though, an uproar started.

They were laughing.

Loud and obnoxious laughs echoed around me, with some of them sputtering and choking on their drinks. My cheeks burned in embarrassment, but they burned even brighter when I realized Ronan had joined them.

“This isn't funny.” I knew I sounded desperate, but I really was. I had no money, no property, no one to call and if I didn't act fast, I could be dead in the morning.

It would be stupid of me to think that whoever has targeted me today would just lay low.

“I'm serious.” I hissed. “I need your help.”

“And you're going to get this by marrying me?” Ronan smirked. “Interesting.”

“Just…”

“Let me think about it.” He made a fuss of rubbing his fingers along his jaw, and in a loud octave, he finally let out. “No.”

“No?” I was stunned. “What do you mean no?!”

“The last thing I need is a liability.” He snarled. “Get out.”

Shit. I was cooked.

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