Page 53 of Silent as Sin
The name sat in my blood like a stone. Venom’s right hand, ghosting our borders, always one step too close. Last night with Wren made one thing clear—if Bones gets his hands on her, I’ll never forgive myself.
I shrugged my cut on, leather stiff and smelling of leather and years of the road, and grabbed my helmet from the table.The yard was filling with brothers; bikes lined up, chrome catching the thin light, engines coughing alive one by one. The smell of exhaust and hot metal hit me the way it always did before a run, a promise and a threat both.
Wren’s hand brushed mine as I passed. She’d come out on the porch, hair a mess from sleep, eyes still soft. My chest went tight. Leaving her felt wrong. Every instinct screamed to keep her where I could see her, to put my body between her and whatever came for her.
“I’m bringing her with us,” I told Warden when he stepped up beside me.
He was already strapped, cut flat across his shoulders, face carved from the same rock as his voice. “Not happening.” Calm. Firm.
“She’s not safe here,” I snapped.
“She’s not safe out there either.” Warden didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “We’re going into Fire Dragon ground. This run is for intel, not for risks we don’t have to take.”
“Bones has eyes everywhere.” My fingers tightened on my helmet. “You think I don’t know what that means?”
“Then trust your brothers,” Warden said close, steel under the words. “That’s what the patch is for.”
My jaw worked. Before I could argue, Throttle walked up, flicked his cigarette into the dirt and said, “I’ll stay. No one’s touching her while I’m here.”
Throttle was solid, loyal, flat-deadly when he needed to be, but the idea of leaving Wren in another man’s watch bit deep. Especially another man who wanted her.
“She’s mine to protect,” I growled.
Throttle didn’t blink. “And she’ll still be yours when you get back. I’m not Bones, Ashen. Let me sit with Wren. Nobody gets past me.”
The truth of it settled like lead. I hated how it felt to walk away, but Warden was right. Riding her into Dragon territory would be stupid and suicidal. Locking her behind our lines under watch was the lesser gamble.
I exhaled, loosened my grip on the helmet, and looked to where Wren stood. She watched from the porch, small and unshakable, fingers wrapped around the glass bird like it was ballast. She gave me a tiny nod, understanding my dilemma.
“Fine.” I stepped close to Throttle, low enough so only he heard. “If anything happens to her—”
“Nothing’s gonna happen to her,” Throttle cut in, voice flat. “I’ll put ‘em in the ground before they touch her.”
I searched his face, then clipped a short nod. It had to be enough.
Warden swung a leg over his bike. “Mount up. We got work.”
I strapped my helmet on, engines roaring around me, the sound rattling my chest. Before I swung onto my bike, I cut one last look at Wren.
I stalked up the porch, leaned down close so only she could hear. “You stay inside. You don’t wander away from Throttle. You got me?”
Her fingers tightened on the glass bird. She nodded once.
“Good.” I brushed my mouth over hers quick, hard. “I’ll be back for you. Nobody else. Me.”
Then I turned and mounted up. My chest still felt too tight, but I locked it down. Wren needed me focused.
Bones was moving out there, and today I needed to find out just how close.
***
THE FIRE DRAGONclubhouse looked cleaner than it used to and didn’t smell like sweat and piss anymore. Calla andEmmaline had left their mark, but the wild still lived in the bones of the place. Neon buzzed overhead, too harsh against the dark wood. The air hummed with a danger that didn’t ease when we walked in.
Calla and Emmaline sat at the bar when we walked in, Fire Dragon eyes on them like property that we better not touch. Calla gave Warden a quiet nod, blood recognizing blood. Emmaline caught my eye, offered a wave and a smile. Burned my ass she was Chaos’s ol’ lady, but she’d chosen her side. Nothing I said would change it.
Around us, Dragons watched. Hard stares, arms crossed, guns holstered where you could see them. Not friendly, not curious — just waiting.
Vandal cut across the room, boots heavy on floorboards. Authority in every step, every man moving out of his way. He jerked his chin at the back. “Office.”
