Page 82 of Vengeance

He squeezed Chloe's hand. "For the first time—” He smiled. "I think I am."

Together, they rode away from the cemetery—not toward another war, but toward the future Savage had sacrificed everything to protect. The Black Veil was gone. Its monsters had fallen, and for the first time in more than twenty years, Vengeance rode free.

Chloe

Six Months Later

The roar of motorcycles rolled across the Alabama hills long before the riders came into view. Chloe smiled as she stood beside Dallas near the entrance to the rebuilt clubhouse, the warm spring breeze tugging at the hem of her black dress. Savage Hell was gone, but in its place stood something even better.

The new clubhouse was larger, stronger, and built by hundreds of hands. Every Royal Bastard chapter had sent brothers to help. Even the Dragons had spent weeks laying brick, determined to repay the man whose compassion had given them a second chance.

Above the front door hung a hand-carved cedar sign.

SAVAGE HELL.

Beneath it, mounted in polished steel, was a simple plaque.

"Strength isn't measured by the lives you take, but by the ones you save."

— Savage

Chloe reached up and brushed away a tear before anyone noticed. "He'd hate everyone crying over him," Dallas whispered.

Chloe laughed softly. "He'd complain we're making him look sentimental."

"He'd absolutely complain,” Dallas said. "But secretly—” Dallas smiled. "He'd be proud."

The thunder of engines grew louder as the motorcycles rounded the final curve. The Royal Bastards had arrived, and now rows upon rows of bikes sat in the parking lot. Every chapter, every officer, and every brother had shown up from around the world.

The parking lot filled with the sound of engines shutting down one after another until silence settled over the crowd. And then, she saw him—Vengeance. He climbed off his Harley and removed his helmet. Six months hadn't erased the grief in his eyes. Time had simply taught him how to carry it. He looked healthier than she had ever seen him—stronger and more confident. He no longer scanned every shadow expecting an attack. For the first time since she'd met him, he looked like a man who believed tomorrow existed.

His eyes found hers and the smallest smile crossed his face. He was home, and that single look said everything. She walked to him without thinking, and he met her halfway. His hand settled against the small of her back while he kissed her gently. "You look beautiful."

"So do you,” she whispered, making him laugh.

"I don't think that's how compliments work,” he teased.

"It is when you're mine,” she said, loud enough for some of the Royal Bastards to hear.

Several brothers wolf-whistled, and RoadKill shouted in his Irish lilt, loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Get a room!"

The laughter broke the last of the tension, and Vengeance simply shook his head. "They’re idiots,” he teased with no real heat.

"I know." She reached up and straightened the collar of his plain black shirt. "You nervous?"

He glanced toward the clubhouse. "A little."

"You've faced Dante and survived a war,” she reminded.

"I know,” he said.

"Then tell me how this is scarier,” she said.

He smiled, and she squeezed his hand. “It’s scarier because they might not choose me.”

She smiled at him. “I think that they already chose you."

"I hope so."