All Chapters of Shadow Beneath The Stars (Demented Devils) MC : Chapter 11 - Chapter 15

I awoke to the sun shining brightly on my face, its warm hues mixing with the blanket to provide a comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time. Lifting my head, I noticed the room was empty. The bed felt cold beside me, and Armand’s side was only partly made up. Still naked from last night, I scanned the room and saw that my clothes had been picked up and placed near the desk chair. Now that it was fully bright, the pale gray walls gave the space a peaceful atmosphere. I could see details I had missed the night before due to the circumstances surrounding us. Sitting up, I ran my fingers through my hair, tangled from sleep, and stretched my arms, letting the sheet fall away as I stood to grab my clothes. As I dressed, pulling on my jeans, I glanced out the window, which faced the compound—the heart of our land. Daylight revealed everything: the rows of motorcycles lined up outside, reminding me of the ones that had come for us that night. I could still feel the lingering adrenaline mixed with

I pressed my hand to my mouth, the acrid scent of smoke clawing at my throat as I stumbled toward the middle of the chaos. Armando and the others stood near a building that was engulfed in flames, its structure nearly collapsed under the onslaught of fire. My gaze zeroed in on a man leaning against a post, which had been reduced to a charred stump, his body barely clinging to life.Panic surged through me as my heart raced and my hands trembled. I sprinted over, adrenaline coursing through my veins, the heat of the flames licking at my skin. I dropped to my knees beside him, the ground hot beneath me. I pushed aside the smoldering remnants of his jacket, revealing a deep, jagged wound near his abdomen—the same cruel mark that marred Armando’s side. Blood oozed from the man's mouth, pooling in the dust around him, and I knew he was hurt far worse than I dared imagine.My fingers fumbled as I untangled the fabric of his shirt, revealing more bullet wounds that punctured his back, the gri

Armando held his head high, a veneer of triumph shrouding the turmoil beneath. My neck throbbed where he had gripped my collar, the remnants of his fingers lingering like an unwelcome brand. Since his friends had arrived, he seemed lost to me, consumed by their camaraderie. He had only cast a fleeting glance in my direction after he hurled that man into the fire, his gaze barely touching me as if I were nothing more than a shadow drifting through a sunlit memory.The Hornets’ leader stared at me with a predatory hunger, his dark brown eyes glimmering with desire, tracing my every move. It was as if my very presence was a trophy to be won. As I walked toward the cabin, where injured men lay on makeshift cots crafted from broken bed-frames and tattered sheets salvaged from the remains of the shed, I felt the weight of his gaze like a heavy shroud.Inside, a crew member from The Hornets was hastily gathering supplies and stuffing them into a bag. I crossed my arms, refusing to shrink away