Page 45 of King's Reckoning
"Isn't dying today," Rowan finished firmly, her voice leaving no room for doubt. The training her mother had instilled in her—strength in crisis, clarity under pressure—steadied her despite the fear threatening to overwhelm her.
Outside, engines roared as multiple chapters mobilized to help. Not enemies now, but allies bound by a shared purpose. By historical connections that ran deeper than recent rivalries.
Rowan held Reed's hand as they carefully moved him for transport, feeling his pulse steady under her fingers despite his blood-soaked shirt. The wound was serious but not immediately fatal—if they could get him proper medical care soon. His skin was pale, but his eyes remained focused on her face, drawing strength from her presence.
"I told you," he whispered through pain-clenched teeth, "to be careful what you wish for."
"What do you mean?" she asked, brushing dust from his face with gentle fingers.
"Family," he managed, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Looks like you've got more than you bargained for now."
Around them, members of multiple MCs worked together, coordinating the evacuation with surprising efficiency. Old rivalries temporarily set aside in the face of a threat that affected them all.The collapse of the tunnel network wasn't just burying artifacts. It was erasing historical evidence that connected all their clubs to the founding families.
"Just stay with me," she said softly, pressing her forehead to his. "Whatever comes next, we face it together. That's what partners do."
His hand squeezed hers weakly. "Partners," he agreed. "In all things."
King organized the evacuation, his natural leadership drawing respect even from former rivals. Rowan watched him work—saw Elena's preparation in his methodical approach, his ability to navigate chaos with clear purpose. Whatever their relationship had been, Elena had chosen well for the challenges she knew would come.
As they emerged from the collapsing tunnels into pre-dawn darkness, Rowan caught movement in the shadows. A familiar silver-haired figure watching from a distance.
Blackwood.
Still pulling strings. Still seeking control rather than cooperation.
"Dad," she said quietly, nodding toward the retreating figure. "We still have one loose end."
King followed her gaze, his expression hardening. "He'll be back. Men like Blackwood don't give up easily."
"Neither do we," Rowan replied, her voice steady with determination. "Mom made sure of that."
The first rays of dawn broke over the horizon as they loaded Reed into a waiting vehicle. Members from three different clubs worked together to ensure his safety, their collective resources providing what none could manage alone. Exactly as the founding families had intended when they first established their brotherhoods.
"Where to now?" Barbara asked, her equipment saved but her research partially lost in the collapse.
Rowan looked at the assembled groups—former enemies now standing together, united by shared history and a common threat. At her father, finally understanding the full scope of Elena's vision. At Reed, fighting to stay conscious as medics worked to stabilize him.
"Forward," she said simply. "Together."
As the convoy moved out, Rowan remained by Reed's side, her hand firmly in his. Whatever came next, they would face it as partners. As family. The family Elena had always intended them to become.
And somewhere, Rowan was certain, her mother was smiling.
The Devils' medical facility turned out to be a converted private hospital, its stark corridors a far cry from the ancient tunnels they'd left behind. Rowan paced the waiting room while surgeons worked on Reed, her mind racing to process everything that had happened. The adrenaline crash was making it harder to distinguish reality from fear-induced imagination.
She paused by the window, watching dawn break over unfamiliar territory. Just days ago, she'd been a prospect trying to infiltrate the club. Now she stood in a Devils' facility, surrounded by members of multiple MCs, all united by a shared history none of them had fully understood until now.
Barbara's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "I've been analyzing the data from the artifacts," she said, laptop open on her knees. "And I think... I think we've been looking at this all wrong."
"What do you mean?" King asked. He hadn't left Rowan's side since they'd arrived, as if afraid she'd disappearlike Elena had.
"These boxes everyone's fighting over?" Barbara turned her screen to show them her analysis. "They're old, yes. Historically significant. But they're not mystical or supernatural. They're historical records documenting land claims that predate official settlement records—evidence that could overturn centuries of property rights."
Rowan frowned, remembering her mother's careful documentation. "But the way Mom wrote about them, how important it was that specific families protect them..."
"Political foresight," Barbara explained. "Elena understood that these historical records would be targeted by powerful interests who benefit from the current property arrangements. The founding families weren't chosen by mystical forces. They were entrusted with protecting these records because they had no stake in the established power structure."
"And the tunnels?" King pressed. "The hidden chambers?"
