Page 111 of Daughters of Chaos

Phoenix

(A few months later)

Warmth surrounds me as sunlight filters in through my partially open curtains. A heavy arm circles my waist from behind, holding me snugly against a hard body. The fresh ink on the owner's bicep makes butterflies flutter in my stomach.

Mason added a new element to his sleeve the other day, surprising me with the finished product. A bright phoenix rises from ashes under the protective film on his arm. The piece fits beautifully with his other designs and is breathtaking. I can't help but trace it as he lay in our bed—the one we now share in Mason's house—ourhouse.

This man, this beautiful man, etched a permanent place on his skin for me. The gesture has my emotions working in overdrive. It’s a declaration for our future, the one we'll map out together.

We've been through so much in our short time together. Faced some pretty horrific challenges and stood too close to Death's door more than once. It's enough to make even the strongest couples bend and break. Yet here we are, stronger than ever and in too deep to turn back now, not that I'd ever dream of it.

I'd lose too much.

My family, my future, my friends . . .

My mind drifts to Kat, clenching at the memories of all she's been through, all she's suffered.

After Kat and Rae's abductions, my friend needed support and counseling. So, I started going with her. We tried to convince Raven to come too, but she refused. She wanted to sort through everything her own way, so we didn't push her. Rae's way of working out her demons works for her, and that's all I can hope for.

Kat's still wading through everything, but she's doing so much better now. The bruises on her skin are gone, but the ones the Bastards left on her soul will probably always be there. The whole experience changed her, made her harder and wary, but she's still Kat. Still my friend, only different.

She was devastated about Martin. His betrayal, his part in her torment . . . it wrecked her. Changed her.

When she came home, she felt lost, unsure where she fit in anymore. She started coming around more, spending time at the clubhouse and bar. The guys welcomed her with open arms. She even bonded with Rae over what happened to each of them.

Raven took Kat under her wing and started teaching her self-defense like she had me and Lace. Having that tool in her arsenal has steadied Kat, and teaching her has helped Raven, even if she won't admit it. Talking things through isn't her form of therapy.She'd rather channel her emotions into something physical. So, she has, helping my friend along the way.

The more time Kat spent with Raven, the more at ease she seemed when she came to the clubhouse. She seemed to feel safe there, surrounded by the Sons, the men who helped save her that fateful day. I think she's even grown a soft spot for Tweak since she started coming around.

He was one of the men Dad sent to watch over her when we got back from Manzanita. Her own personal bodyguard. They bonded over their traumas and grew closer over time. I've seen how they react to each other too. When crowds are around, she seems to gravitate toward him, leaning on him for support and safety.

I'm glad she has him. Like Rae has Reaper. Like I have Mason.

The light in the darkness. The hope amid hopelessness. The promise of tomorrow.

Mason stirs, drawing me out of my reverie. I turn in his arms, wanting a better view of his chiseled face. He's so peaceful right now with his full lips parted, taking slow steady breaths. The heat from his mouth kisses my skin with every exhale, drawing me closer to the man who holds my heart.

In the aftermath of the war with the Bastards, Mason hardly left my side. My constant protector. Watching, waiting, shielding me from any danger that dared get close. The whole club has been keeping an eye out for any whisper that one of Dom or Scar's men made it off the lot that day.

So far, they've found nothing. Even the cops on Dad's payroll have said there's no one left. We're safe now.

From them anyway.

There are still other clubs out there who knew Scar and Dom and allied with them when it worked in their favor. So far, none have made any moves against us. Hopefully the eradication of the Bastards sends a message that they should stay away.

We'll never be one hundred percent safe, not in this life. Not when we've chosen the path that we have, the family that we have.

My life used to be so simple. So easy and safe and uncomplicated. Looking back, I can't help but feel that there was always a void, even in the happiest of times. There was a hole to fill in my heart. I used to think Dad was the missing piece, and it's true, he was. But I had no idea until I got here that there were so many more. Mason, Lace, Kat, Jesse, and the rest of the Sons—the rest of my family.

They've all become so important to me. There's no way I'd ever give them up, even if it meant my life would go back to being quiet and safe and easy. Walking away now would wreck me; I know that. There's still a tiny part of me that wishes things could be different, that the Sons didn't dabble in the illegal and unsavory. But that's not the life they live, and I've accepted that.

It should terrify me, but it doesn't. I chose this. I keep walking this path with my family, and I can't find it in me to regret that decision. Deep down, I even find it thrilling. Living life on the edge, surrounded by rough and rugged men, tempting danger . . .

It's strange and new (and a bit concerning) that I'm drawn to the darkness of it all. Maybe I'm not wired like most people. That would explain why my new family fits me so well and why I feel whole again. The darkness of their lives doesn't scare me the way it should. Maybe I'm more like my dad than any of us imagined, and I'm okay with that.

Warm lips trail kisses over my bare skin as Mason pulls me closer to him. I moan when he starts to move over my neck, sucking gently as his tongue leaves hot lines of warmth up to my ear. Our lips meet in a frenzy as I give in to the rush of need throbbing between my legs. So needy and tethered by my body's reaction to him, I can't help it.

Pulling him on top of me, I nip and lick at the tattoos on his hard chest, reveling in the sounds that elicits. When his hooded eyes meet mine, I roll my hips, pressing my wetness against his hard length. He's already primed and ready to go, the tip of his cock purple and weeping.

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