Page 53 of Cheshire

“Couldn’t have been easy,” Carpenter said, clapping me on the back so hard I nearly stumbled.

“Thanks to you all, I had a reason to wait for someone to come rescue me,” I said. “If something like that had happened before I met all of you, I would have just waited to die. But I knew Cheshire, and the rest of you, would keep looking for me.”

Cheshire cut through the room, his presence turning heads, his perpetual grin promising mischief. The sea of bodies parted for him. He locked eyes with me from across the room, blue gaze blazing. Pride. Adoration. A silent vow that spoke louder than any words.

“Eliza,” he called, his voice slicing through the clamor. Every step he took toward me was a claim, each stride a testament to his place in this world -- and in mine. When he reached me, the chatter and the din of celebration dulled into oblivion.

“Cheshire,” I whispered, my heart hammering.

His fingers curled around mine, possessive yet gentle. He tugged, and I followed, drawn by an invisible thread that bound us. As he led me to the center of the room, it was clear who I belonged to, clear that I wasn’t just part of the club -- I was part of him. My cheeks warmed, and I couldn’t hold back my smile.

* * *

Cheshire

The thrum of the bass pulsed through the soles of my boots as I pulled Eliza into me. Our bodies found a rhythm, a primal dance older than time, her hips against mine. The room faded away, everything dimming against the electricity between us.

“Eliza,” I murmured, voice low, my breath hot on her neck. She tilted her head, offering the expanse of skin where her pulse danced beneath. My arm wrapped tighter around her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space for doubt or fear -- only us, only this. I didn’t care who was watching. Let them. Especially Park, that fucker. I wanted him to know Eliza was mine.

We spun, dancing to the music. It felt as if the world was spinning. Our feet moved to the beat, and I wanted the moment to last forever. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever enjoyed dancing with a woman like this.

I leaned in, slow, deliberate. Her breath hitched, anticipation crackling between us, fierce and feral. Then our lips met and the club erupted in applause and catcalls.

“Get it, Cheshire!” someone hollered, the shout piercing through the haze of heat wrapping us. I flipped off the room in the general direction of the voice and heard someone laugh.

Cheers, whistles, the clinking of bottles -- I knew it might have embarrassed any other woman. But not Eliza. Not my fierce lady who’d stared down hell with the steel of a warrior queen. She was far braver than she gave herself credit for.

Our kiss deepened, a clash of teeth and tongue. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t meant to be. It was fire and need, a claiming more powerful than any ink on skin. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, nails biting through leather and shirt, branding me as surely as I branded her with every press of my mouth.

We broke apart, breathless, chests heaving. Her cheeks were flushed, lips bruised from our fervor, but her eyes… they blazed with a light that outshone the stars in the sky.

“Mine,” I growled, low enough for only her to hear.

“Yours,” she said.

This party was about more than a victory. It was a beginning -- the first mile of a long ride into a future we’d carve out together. When we were done, this town would be safe. No more monsters would lurk in the shadows. If they dared come to Warren, we’d take them down.

* * *

Eliza

The noise died down, glasses lifted high as Hatter commandeered the silence.

“Brothers,” he began, his gaze sweeping over the sea of leather and ink. “And, sister. Tonight, we aren’t just celebrating a win. It’s another step toward a much bigger plan.”

“Eliza,” Hatter continued, his eyes finding mine in the crowd. “You’ve shown more spine than anyone ever gave you credit for.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat a mix of pride and raw emotion. Around us, the noise rose to a crescendo again, a wave of cheers and hoots.

“Here’s to new beginnings,” Hatter roared over the din, “to the end of tyranny in Warren, and to the Underland MC -- may our roads be long and our enemies scatter like dust!”

“Underland!” the club echoed back.

Conversations sparked around me, tales of close calls and daring plans. I let their words wash over me.

“Can’t believe we pulled it off,” someone said. “And we didn’t lose anyone.”

“Believe it, brother,” another replied, and I heard the sound of someone slapping another person on the back. “We’re damn unstoppable.”

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