Teagan let the tears roll from her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him. Cort planted his lips on hers, holding her closely, mingling his warmth with hers.
“Are you really here?” Teagan sobbed.
“Yes. Baby, I’m right here,” Cort said.
“I can’t believe it,” she said. “How…?”
“I had to see you. Listen, the Parliament reconsidered. They ruled on everything again. I’m going to be King. No matter what I am going to be King. As soon as they told me that I realized the one person in all the world I want to share this celebration with was in San Diego. So, I hopped on a plane immediately, and here I am.”
Teagan kissed him hard on the mouth as he lifted her up in the air. She had never been happier for another person than she was right at that instant. It was like everything she’d been worried about with them and becoming Queen—it was all gone. It all seemed so silly now. All that mattered was the two of them being together.
“Well, I guess we have to celebrate properly,” Teagan said.
She quickly ran to the door, locked it and walked back towards the center of the room stripping her clothes off all the way.
“I guess it’s time for my second Yoga lesson,” Cort said. “Let’s see if I’ve improved.”
Teagan ran to him.
EPILOGUE
One year later
“Wow, this is the most beautiful day!” Teagan exclaimed as she plopped down on the sand beside Cort.
Cort looked at her and smiled. God, she could never get enough of that smile.
Looking out over the ocean she wondered how it had all happened. How did she end up here in Rovenia living, working, and totally in love with the King of all people? It had been almost a year since she’d taken the plunge and moved to Rovenia to teach Yoga under the guidance of Suri. He’d been so impressed with her that he’d asked her to come and work with him. She was now second only to him, and she was key in selecting recruits for the retreats, and she was the head teacher in three of his yoga studios in Rovenia. He chose to lead the studios in Paris and Florence, traveling between the two.
Cort was enjoying his duties as King of Rovenia, and the people loved him. Teagan was getting used to the paparazzi and the attention of being the King’s girlfriend. She loved the ring of that. The King’s girlfriend. It just had that sweet ring to it.
“You just spilled sand on my book,” Cort said with a smirk.
“Well, I only sprinkled sand on the dull parts,” Teagan replied.
“Hey, there are no dull parts in Charles Bukowski.”
Teagan stuck her tongue out. Cort quickly wrapped his lips around it and sucked her face to his with a deep kiss.
“Wow, that was cool,” Teagan said. “You are in a frisky mood today.”
“Aren’t I always? You bring it out of me.”
“I do, don’t I?” Teagan joked.
The waiter came by just then with a delivery of drinks.
Teagan grabbed her martini while Cort picked up his whiskey. She’d no sooner started to take a sip of her martini when she noticed something floating in the glass. It was sitting on top of the rim of the glass, stuck there almost as if by magic.
It was a ring.
As she looked closer, it was the biggest, most beautiful diamond ring she’d ever seen in her life.
It was an engagement ring.
Her eyes began to tear up as she looked at Cort. Was this really happening?
It was. Cort was down on one knee. He grabbed the ring and looked deeply into Teagan’s eyes.
“Teagan Norton, you’ve made me the happiest man in the world already, but I believe you could make a paradise on Earth appear before me if you would do me the honor of becoming my wife.”
Teagan heard the beautiful words repeating over and over in her mind. She tried to speak, but her voice was stuck. After several seconds, she managed to blurt out the words “Yes! Absolutely yes!”
Cort smiled and placed the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. It was by far the most beautiful thing she had ever laid her eyes on.
Cort kissed her softly and pulled her closer.
“I love you, so much,” Cort said.
“I love you!” Teagan cried. “Oh, I love you so much!”
Off in the distance, she saw several people begin to clap.
The people of Rovenia were about to get a new Queen.
Turn the page for your bonus book of Hawk!
Hawk (The Road Rebels MC #1)
by Savannah Rylan
Chapter 1
Hawk
“I’m so sorry, Sydney.”
“No… Hawk. It can’t be him. Please tell me it’s not him.”
That night would forever sit in my memory as the night my entire life changed. The infamous shootout between The Devil Saints and The Road Rebels not only left multiple people dead but made the headlines and forced both clubs to go under the radar. I was in my twenties when I was a prospect for The Road Rebels. My father, Joe, was the Vice President of the motorcycle club. He was highly revered. A real chest puffer. He knocked up my mom at some motorcycle celebration at the beach on the West Coast, and she showed up at his doorstep nine months later with me.
“Dad! No! Stop!”
The gunshots called out like raging lightning strikes. They tore through the air, whizzing by our heads as motorcycles came rumbling down the road. The Devil Saints had been looking to stir up trouble with us ever since our treasurer had been found hooking up with The Devil Saint’s President’s wife.
John had been an idiot. Why the fuck couldn’t he have just kept it in his pants? The Devil Saints had always been looking for trouble. Their club was conceived as a split faction from another major club out in the Grand Canyon valley, and they brought nothing but heartache and sorrow wherever they went. Their motorcycles were loud, their jackets and paint jobs were bright, and they had no issues unloading gun magazines into anyone that looked at them in a way they didn’t approve.
Why the fuck did Sidney’s father, have to fuck the President’s wife?
Bullets were flying as I raced to my father. He was taking fire as he ducked behind a car. People were screaming, and magazines were being reloaded. My father pressed a gun into my hand so I could fend for myself, then he went back to what he knew best.
Shooting at those who shot at his loved ones.
“Hawk! Help!”
I took off running, hearing Sydney’s cries for help. My heart hammered in my chest. Was she hurt? Was she bleeding? Had she been taken? The Devil Saints were ruthless bastards and would stop at nothing to get the information they needed.
Even if it was pouring from the scared lips of a 20-year old girl.
I could still remember how petrified I was when I heard Sydney shriek like that. She had been raised by her father as well after her mother dumped her at the main lodge. That was common with women nowadays: take a wild vacation, have a tryst with a biker, then dump the child when they didn’t want to take responsibility for their actions. Sydney had grown up tough, and her father raised her to protect herself. She knew how to shoot a gun with accuracy by the age of twelve and could single-handedly take me down by the time we were teenagers.
I fell in love with her on the spot the moment she pinned me to the ground the very first time we sparred.
I slid towards Sydney as I saw her cradling someone’s head. Blood was leaking everywhere as it spurted onto her blue leather jacket. Tears were pouring down her face as I crawled to her, shooting out to my side as someone attempted to charge us. I didn’t even look to see how long it took for the fucker to bleed out because I recognized who she was cradling the moment I saw his eyes.
John.
Her father had been shot.
Raking my hands through my Mohawk, I stared out the window. Never in my life had I ever seen Sydney cry that way. She was tough. Tougher than any girl should’ve been for her age. She and I had seen things no child should be privy to, and it was another reason why we
got along so well. Our fathers raised us, schooled us, and strapped us to their motorcycles when we took trips. We grew up on the road and never once saw the inside of a formal education institution. We understood the in’s and out’s of how each other was being raised, and people actually took bets on when we’d finally tie the knot.
But she left before we could.
“Please Daddy,” Sydney begged. “Just hang on.”
Blood was pouring from Joe’s mouth as I ripped my jacket off. I peeled my shirt off my back and pressed it to the gunshot wound in his chest, but his stomach was littered with iron. There wasn’t a chance in hell he would make it, and we both watched as the light slowly slipped from his eyes.
“Hawk,” John choked out.
“Yeah. Yeah, John. I’m right here. Just… conserve your energy.”
A bullet whizzed by my head, and I got up. I shot the man who was aiming a gun at us right between the eyes, then ducked back down before his body hit the ground. I reloaded my gun without even thinking as Sydney’s eyes widened at me, and for the first time, I saw it.
I saw Sydney fear me and what I had become.
“Take care… of my… my baby,” he said.
“That’s not gonna be necessary,” I said. “Because you’re gonna live to take care of her yourself.”
“Promise me, boy. Pro-... promise…”
“Daddy! No! Please!”
My hands shook as I sat at her father’s desk. Joe and John were always made fun of because they wanted legitimate desks in the main lodge where we all congregated. Hell, they had been made fun of when they suggested building this fucking building in the first place. ‘Motorcycle clubs don’t have lodges’ the members had complained. But, Joe and my father were dead set on it. They thought we needed a safe place to meet up. A haven for us all to gather at. A place to hold our family dinners and return to after trips we all took together. They kept teasing our fathers about wanting ‘office spaces’ and shit like that, but I knew why they wanted this place.
They wanted it because it gave them some sort of permanence.
I never could bring myself to sit at my father’s desk, but for some reason sitting at John’s desk always made me feel a bit closer to her. To Sydney. Our father’s ‘offices’ were right next to one another’s because it helped them to coordinate trips. The Vice President was in charge of taking care of our books and shit after the President put his stamp of approval on it, and that meant working alongside the Treasurer to make sure they could afford all the shit my father always wanted to do.
It made their lives a bit more convenient, it got them out of their homes, and the building ultimately pulled the whole of The Road Rebels into a more cohesive unit.
“Hawk! Get over here!”
I heard someone call out for me and I jumped up from behind the barrels. Sydney was tugging on my wrist, begging me to stay. Her eyes were lined with tears as the fear ricocheted across her face, but the desperation in the person calling for me caused me to rip myself away from her.
“I’ll be right back, I swear,” I said.
I ran over as bullets continued to fly, but then I heard it. Sirens off in the distance. Motorcycles kicked up as The Devil Saints began to ride away, and the moment they turned their backs I unloaded. Every single bullet in my gun chamber hit the backs of members as they drove off, and it wasn’t until Sydney wrapped her arms around me and shrieked for me to stop that I came to.
“Just stop,” she whispered desperately.
“Hawk, you gotta come quick,” someone said. “It’s your father.”
We lost many good riders that day. Sydney’s father. My father. Our president, Magnum. They all bled out in the sand while the rest of us stood there, stunned at the surprise assault The Devil Saints were able to spring on us. Some people were angry that someone didn’t see it coming. Others thought we had a traitor in our midst. Had it not been for the grieving process and my ability to yell some fucking sense into everyone, a damn witch hunt would’ve killed and destroyed what was left of our crew.
Our club.
Our brothers.
Our family...
Consoling Sydney had been the hardest thing I’d ever have to do. Her grief was overwhelming. She screamed and cried as I held her that night, then she tried to use sex to cover up how she felt. I sank my cock between her legs time and time again as she clawed at my back, trying to forget the overwhelming stench of blood that was still wafting underneath her nose. I loved that woman with a passion. I was willing to give her anything and everything she could’ve ever needed to cope. If she wanted sex, that’s what she would get. If she wanted me to eat her pussy until she passed out from the pleasure, that’s what I would do. If she wanted to drown her sorrows in ice cream and put on thirty pounds, I’d call her beautiful while she was doing it.
What I didn’t know was that I’d wake up alone the next morning.
What I didn’t know was that Sydney’s grief would rip her away from me.
I never did see her after that. After she left me in the middle of the night. I’d spent my entire life growing up alongside her, then The Devil Saints came in and killed our parets. My grief drove me deeper into the family fold. My mother moved away from the grief of my father’s loss and I worked my way up the ladder and ended up with the position of Sergeant at Arms. It was bittersweet, in a way, but it was the only thing I could think of that would somehow bring him honor.
Somehow protect us from what happened that night.
Sydney’s grief, however, drove her away from this place. Away from us.
Away from me.
I blamed The Devil Saints for taking her from me. For forcing me to bury our parents. She didn’t even come back for her father’s funeral. Fucking heaven only knows where she had been. Some rumors swirled that her mother wasn’t actually dead. Others could’ve sworn they saw her walking the streets as a prostitute just inside the town limits. Some proclaimed she was actually adopted and never once considered us family. Just a trapped little girl who wanted out.
No matter what was true, I couldn’t blame her. She sometimes talked about getting out and living a normal life. Traveling the world and getting away from all the violence. She wanted the house and the yard. The dog running around with her child on it’s back. She wanted the late night wine meetings with friends while they bitched about their husbands and the shopping trips that would make most men pull their hair out.
Me? I couldn’t wait to spend my years with the only family I’d ever known. They’d comforted me and took me in when my father died. Showed me the ropes and made sure I stayed on a path he’d be proud of. I swore at his funeral I’d do right by him. I swore I’d guide the only physical definition of family I’d ever known down a path that would not only make him proud but honor his name.
But there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of Sydney.
Now, I was twenty-six. Sergeant at Arms of The Road Rebels motorcycle club. I wanted to make sure nothing like that night ever happened again. I maintained order and security, making sure our members were safe, and their children never lost their parents before their time to leave. Sydney had been out of my life for almost six years, but I could still feel her at my side every night. I could still feel her warmth wrapped around my body. I could still smell her musky scent mixed with this cotton candy bullshit she used to spray on herself every now and again.
How I missed the way, her fingernails raked down my arms when we made love.
Sure, I’d been with other women. I wasn’t gonna deprive myself of the soft curves a woman’s body had to offer. But no one compared to her. The way Sydney’s body molded to mine after sex couldn’t be matched. It was like we simply bled together, our lines blurring into one another’s while we slept. Her sounds were unmatched. Her little groans and moans that turned to full-on wails of pleasure as I plunged in and out of her body.
None of these women and their pussies held a candle to the way Sydney’s body made me feel.
Orgasms were half-assed, and I didn’t care if they got theirs. I’d get them some food, tell them how beautiful they were, and I wouldn’t even take all my clothes off to do what I wanted to do. There wasn’t a point to it. I was done trying to chase what Sydney had provided for me all those years ago and simply settled for… well… settling.
People in the club told me I wouldn’t find myself a nice girl to fuck regularly if I continued down my path, but that’s what they didn’t understand.
I didn’t want a nice girl.
I wanted Sydney.
I heavy knock reverberated around the main lodge. I sighed, pulling myself from Sydney’s father’s desk as I rolled my shoulders back. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in and congregate today, especially since there was some fucking beach bash on the West Coast everyone wanted to go to.
But the knocking got more frantic, and I started to wonder if someone had gotten into trouble.
Had there been another shootout? Was someone dead? Had someone gotten into a crash? All these questions flooded my mind as I reached for the door and swung it open. But nothing in my wildest dreams could’ve prepared me for what was standing right in front of me.
A woman, with beautiful long, auburn hair and blue eyes whose curves took my breath away. Her eyes were heavy with sorrow and exhaustion, but the sparkle behind them was unmistakable. Her long neck tapered into a broad set of shoulders that held up voluptuous tits, and her waist dipped in before flaring out into a wide set of hips I’d buried my fingertips into so many times before.
“Sydney,” I whispered.
And then, a small little voice caught my ear. I looked down to see a little girl holding Sydney’s hand, and all I could do was gawk. She had to be no more than five, with long auburn hair just like her mother’s. She had freckles on her cheeks and nose that matched those of the woman whose hand she was holding, but it was her eyes that struck me the most.
Her eyes weren’t blue like her mother’s.
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