Claimed By The Biker Kings: Their Forbidden Queen

Three days of losing my mind.

Every shadow looked like Ronan’s calculating stare. Every stranger could have been Maddox with his silver tongue. And every time I closed my eyes, I saw Jaxon—blood on his lips, violence in his movements, that moment when his mask slipped.

My father hadn’t mentioned my gala disappearance. Either Detective Martinez covered better than I’d hoped, or he was playing a longer game.

“You’re distracted,” he said over breakfast, not looking up from his newspaper.

I nearly choked on coffee. “What?”

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

The endearment felt wrong now. Sweet words from a man who lived in the shadows and called monsters his enemies. But after three days of replaying that alley, I wasn’t sure who the monsters really were.

“Just tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.”

He nodded, but his expression said he wasn’t buying it. Then something shifted in his grey eyes—actual fear. When was the last time I’d seen Commissioner Hart afraid?

“Maybe you should stay in today.”

“Actually, I was thinking of going for a run.”

“Take Thompson with you. The city’s been… volatile lately.”

“I’ll be fine, Dad.”

“Alina.” His tone ended the discussion. “Take Thompson.”

—

Four blocks from the penthouse, my phone buzzed.

*Pretty little princess, all alone on scary streets.*

Ice flooded my veins. Someone was watching. Right now.

Another text: Daddy’s security can’t protect you from everything.

Who is this?

*Friends of your new boyfriends. Keep walking straight. Turn right at the next corner.*

The Vultures. Had to be.

I looked behind me for Thompson, but he was nowhere in sight. How had I gotten so far ahead?

*Stop.*

I stopped in a secluded area of Millennium Park, trees blocking the view from main paths.

“Well, well. Commissioner Hart’s little princess.”

Three men emerged from behind trees. Leather cuts with vulture patches. Greasy hair, yellowed teeth, eyes holding no humanity.

“Your daddy’s security man is taking a nap,” the leader said—taller than the others, arms covered in crude tattoos. “Don’t worry, he’ll wake up with just a headache.”

“What do you want?”

“We want the Iron Serpents to know they can’t protect what’s theirs. We Want your daddy to understand his war on motorcycle clubs has consequences.”

“I’m not theirs. I barely know them.”

“No?” One pulled out a phone showing grainy security footage from the Inferno Club. Me in the alley with all three men. “Looks pretty cozy.”

My face burned. “It was just—”

“Here’s what’s happening. We’re going to have a little fun with you. Nothing too permanent. But when we’re done, you’re delivering a message to your new friends.”

“What message?”

His smile turned ugly. “That the Vultures don’t share.”

I ran.

Stupid, instinctive, hopeless—but I ran. Three steps before hands grabbed me, pulling me backward hard enough to knock breath from my lungs.

They dragged me deeper into trees. One produced a knife that gleamed in filtered sunlight.

“Now let’s talk about respect.”

The knife moved toward my face, and I screamed.

It was cut short when a backhand sent me sprawling, tasting blood. This was actually happening.

“Scream all you want. No one’s coming—”

That’s when the trees exploded.

One moment I was on the ground with three men standing over me, the next there was chaos. Bodies flying, wet sounds of fists connecting with flesh.

Through the violence, I saw him.

Jaxon moved like death itself—fast, deadly, and full of rage he kept under control. He seemed to step out of the shadows, and the Vultures never had a chance.

The first man went down with a crack that sounded like his jaw snapping.

The second tried to grab his gun but was knocked out before he could even pull it free.

The leader lasted the longest—maybe ten seconds—before Jaxon had him slammed against a tree, his fingers tight around the man’s throat.

“Want to explain why you’re touching what’s mine?”

“She’s… not… yours…” the leader wheezed.

“No? Then why am I about to kill you for it?”

I should have been horrified. Instead, I found myself mesmerized by violence on my behalf. He’d called me his.

“Jax.” Ronan’s voice cut through morning air like a blade. He emerged from trees looking like he’d stepped out of a boardroom instead of a crime scene. “We need to move. Now.”

Behind him came Maddox, blood on his knuckles and murder in dark eyes. “Three more unconscious fifty yards that way. Someone’s going to find them soon.”

Three more? How many Vultures had been watching me?

Jaxon leaned close to whisper something that made the leader’s eyes go wide with terror. When he released him, the man collapsed and didn’t try to get up.

“Come on, princess.” Maddox was beside me, helping me up with gentle hands that still had blood under the nails. “Time to go.”

“I can’t. Thompson—”

“Will wake up with a story about how you gave him the slip,” Ronan said calmly. “Standard operating procedure.”

The SUV was running. Jaxon slid behind the wheel while Ronan claimed the passenger seat. That left me in back with Maddox, who was studying my split lip with genuine concern.

“You hurt?”

“I’m fine.” But I was shaking now that adrenaline faded.

“You’re not fine,” Jaxon said, meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “But you will be. No one touches you again without going through us first.”

Us. Like I belonged to all three now.

“How did you find me?”

“We’ve been watching you since the club,” Ronan said plainly. “Did you think we’d let Commissioner Hart’s daughter wander Chicago without protection?”

“You’ve been stalking me.”

“We’ve been protecting you,” Maddox corrected. “The Vultures would have done worse than stalk, beautiful. What you saw back there? That was them being restrained.”

“Restrained?”

“They didn’t rape you,” Jaxon said bluntly. “They didn’t kill you. By Vulture standards, that’s practically a love letter.”

My stomach turned. “You’re saying they’ll escalate.”

“Your little adventure has consequences. They’ll use you to hurt us, which means they’ll try to hurt you.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“That’s one option,” Ronan said when I mentioned hiding. “Go back to your glass tower, pretend this never happened.”

The way he said it made it clear what he thought of that option.

“What’s the other option?”

All three exchanged looks—that silent communication again.

“You come with us,” Jaxon said simply. “Serpent’s Den. Our compound.”

“You want me to move in with three criminals I barely know.”

“Yes,” Ronan said.

The simple honesty caught me off guard. “That’s insane.”

“So is walking around Chicago with a target on your back.”

The SUV pulled up to a red light. For a moment I considered running. Back to safety and boredom and slow suffocation.

Instead, I heard myself ask, “What happens at this compound?”

“You’ll be safe,” Maddox said.

“That’s not what I asked.”

His grin was pure mischief. “No, it’s not. Tell me, beautiful—what do you want to happen?”

What did I want? Three days ago, I would have said college, travel, some nice boy my father approved of.

Now I realized I had no idea. Except…

“I want to understand. Why you saved me, why the Vultures targeted me, why I feel safer with three criminals than with my father’s security.”

Jaxon’s eyes met mine in the mirror, something almost soft in his expression. “That’s going to take more than one conversation, princess.”

“Then I guess we’d better get started.”

The light turned green. As we drove deeper into Chicago’s maze of streets and shadows, I realized I’d just made the most important decision of my life.

I was going to find out what happened when good girls chose to fall.