AllFreeNovel
Share Us
PROLOGUE
Merging Fates Across Oceans
The Mother
20 years ago
Through a rusty hole in the back of the racing car, the little girl desperately searched for the Irishman valiantly riding a motorcycle she recognized. Bound, with tears wetting the gag in her mouth, she prayed he would come roaring down the street, the morning sun shining behind him as he came to rescue her.
She had been peddling to school when a man yanked her from her bicycle and shoved her into the trunk of a car. The abductors presumed the little girl was a poor village child, having no idea they had just abducted the revered daughter of the powerful motorcycle gang, the Dullahans, until being chased by the leader: the President.
As the car sped farther from the town she longed to see again, the place where the motorcycle had crashed, she continued to search for the grey eyes of… her father.
The Prince
When I was young, I did not know you could actually feel life leaving a body as it began to perish. Not until I held my dying mother. My first years of childhood, this woman was a pillar of strength. She had now been violently robbed of that vigor. Even though her agonized body was riveted with wounds, her big green eyes were full of torture because she was staring up at her son whom she was about to leave, forever.
My mother was beautiful, far beyond what anyone could see. Now, half-naked and brutalized, and covered in blood, I did my best to hold her upper body in my small lap. The knife that had been plunged mercilessly into her chest and stomach had done its job well. I only had seconds left with her—the woman that I adored above all.
Our house was dark and silent as blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. “I-Is she okay?”
Tears fell from my face and dripped onto hers. “Yes. I hid her.”
Mom’s lips trembled as she tried to smile, showing me how proud I always made her. “My Lynx… so brave.” She coughed up more blood. “She may not be mine, but… she is. I see her as I see you. Do you understand?”
Mom, feeling heavier in my shaky arms, had me close to bursting into hysterics because I knew her body was shutting down. But, as she had taught me, I needed to stay strong. I held her tight, hoping I could convince her body to not give up. “You mean you love her, anyways. Even if you don’t share the same blood.”
Mom’s own tears streamed down the sides of her face, mixing with her bloodstained blonde hair. “That’s right. Always r-remember, souls are stronger than blood.”
She said to always remember, so I begged myself never to forget. Souls are stronger than blood.
As her eyes slowly drifted shut, and her pained face began to relax, my heart shattered. My gut screamed with sorrow. I broke. I sobbed. She and I were losing the fight of our lives… so I begged, “Mom, please don’t go.”
Air caused gurgles as it attempted to fill her damaged lungs for the very last time. Then, on her final exhale, she sighed words that would someday save her son. “Use those lynx eyes, baby… and see the soul.”
I wasn’t sure of the promise I was making, but that didn’t matter. I needed her to know I had heard her. “I will.” As she left me, I hoped her drifting soul could hear me. I looked up to the ceiling, knowing I couldn’t contain her, and growled, “I swear it.”
Chapter one
Daring to See
Lynx
In Austin, Texas, I was a child that didn’t know my life wasn’t normal. Ironic now, seeing how the city is presently known to be the opposite of normal, using the motto “Keep Austin Weird.” But when I was growing up there, it had a different feel. It wasn’t nearly as overpopulated as it is now. Back then, it was nothing to see a famous singer walk into a local restaurant and play his guitar and sing a song as a thank you for his gifted dinner.
None of the locals seemed to think anything of those who chose to ride motorcycles, either. At least, none shared their opinions with me or Mom when we were in town. What I hadn’t realized, at the time, was how much my dad’s reputation was an invisible warning to not mess with his family. I hadn’t understood just how much Mom protected me—sheltered me—from that dangerous reputation.
That’s why I assumed biker clubs were the way of life for all. That’s why I assumed every boy, by a certain age, slept with a loaded gun between his mattress and box spring. One that he was trained to use if ever needed. I thought everyone lived on guard, always being extremely cautious. I was so busy watching my surroundings, as instructed, that I actually missed many, very important and minute details of my everyday life.
Then came the fateful day that would change my view of everything.
Since I was only in middle school, I was still on a rec football team. Yes, Texas and football, I know, but it was a great way to give a boy something to strive for. Instead of getting into trouble, I focused on my team. Other kids on the team may have caused problems elsewhere, but that wasn’t my situation. Mom didn’t go to an office every day like some of the other moms. I was her job. I was to be someone important when I grew up. Even though I wasn’t exactly aware of what that meant, it had been explained that I’d have men to watch over once I became one myself.
After football practice, my team and I jogged off the field while the head coach celebrated, “Great job, everyone!” But I was the only one who got a tussle of the hair. “Excellently done, Duke.”
Under the blazing sun of the Texas heat, I was drenched with sweat, but it was worth it. I loved the sport. I loved the comradery of it, too. When we were in a groove, this team was starting to appear like a well-oiled machine. Even with how young we were, it was amazing what good coaches, and some talent on the field, could create.
Over by the bench, my teammates and I were removing our pads when I heard the assistant coach quietly tell the head coach, “How many times do I need to warn you about puttin’ your hands on that kid. Growing up with his daddy, I’d think you’d be smarter than that.”
