Page 159 of Mystic's Sunrise

Devil huffed something between a sigh and a bitter laugh. “Course she did. Twisted the story ‘til even the devil himself would’ve second guessed the truth. Tried to pull the same shit on me she’s always pulled on you.”

I didn’t look at him. Just stared down at the paper. My name beside hers. That signature inked like blood.

I chuckled. “Didn’t work?”

“Fuck no,” he said. “I don’t wear the chains you did. She found that out the hard way.”

I nodded, jaw clenched until it ached. A part of me still expected the knife in the back. Still half heard her voice in my head, dripping poison wrapped in sugar.

“I loved her once,” I muttered, voice barely there. “Or maybe I just didn’t know what love really was.”

“You didn’t know better,” Devil replied. “You were young and broken, and she saw that. Wrapped herself around your wounds like a damn vine. Made you think the choke was comfort.”

His words dug deep. Truth always cuts deeper than lies.

He stepped in, clapped a hand on my shoulder. Steady. Solid. “But you cut that scab off,” he said. “She can go fuck with someone else.”

I let out a breath that scraped on the way out. “I gotta go.”

He lifted a brow. “To her?”

I looked up at the house, that place that smelled like rot and false promises. Then toward the road.

“She’s waitin’ on me.” My voice came out harder than I meant. “And I ain’t lettin’ her wait another damn second.”

Devil gave a slow nod. “Then go. And Mystic—”

I paused, one leg over the bike, engine rumbling under me like it was just as ready to be free.

“She ain’t your past,” he said, jerking his chin toward the house. “That was your cage.”

I didn’t reply.

Didn’t need to.

I twisted the throttle and felt the beast roar to life. Slid the papers into my cut, where the past belonged, close enough to remember, far enough not to reach me.

And then I was gone.

Tires chewing asphalt. Wind screaming in my ears. Ghosts fading in the mirror. Zeynep was waiting, and for the first time in years, I wasn’t riding to outrun the dark. I was riding toward the light.

Toward her.

My sunrise.

***

THE RIDE BACKwas a blur, just the road, theroar, and the ghost of her name in my head.

I didn’t stop. Didn’t think. Didn’t let the wind do what it usually did for me.

This time, it didn’t cleanse.

It cleared a path.

By the time I rolled up to the gates, the sun was starting to dip low, casting long shadows across the yard. The clubhouse stood quiet, the bikes out front gleaming like they were lined up for war. A couple of brothers lingered by the steps—Chain, Thunder, and Rune—all paused mid-convo when they saw me.

I killed the engine.

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