Isla's POV
"Don't look at me like I caused this. They were coming whether I was here or not."
The firelight flickered over broken bikes and wounded men. The ground was stained with blood and some of the Brotherhood were still groaning while others tried to patch them up. I wrapped my arms around myself, sitting near the edge of the camp, while every eye seemed to cut into me.
Cutter spat into the dirt. His face was bruised from the fight, one eye swollen shut. "You think that's the truth, girl? You think Logan would've sent his men into our camp if you weren't here?"
"It wasn't me," I snapped back. "Logan's been circling for months, looking for a reason to break you. I just gave him an excuse."
"That's enough," Kyree said, his voice low but sharp. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his jaw tight. Smoke curled from the cigarette in his mouth, but his eyes were locked on Cutter.
Cutter laughed, bitter. "No, it's not enough. We bled tonight, we lost brothers tonight and for what? So you can keep some cursed Omega under your roof? She's nothing but a weight around your neck."
The mutters rose again. Men shifted, their gazes darting between me and Kyree. Some nodded at Cutter's words, others stayed quiet, but the tension pressed down heavily.
I stood, my knees shaking, but I didn't let them see fear. "I'm not weight. I didn't ask to be here. I didn't ask for any of this. You think I'm cursed? Fine. But I won't be passed around like a coin to buy you peace."
Cutter sneered. "You don't get a say, girl. This is the Brotherhood. We decide what happens to you."
"No," I shot back. "You don't. You might kill me, but you don't decide who I am, not you, not Drake and not Logan. None of you."
Ava's voice rumbled in my chest. "Stand tall, Isla. Let them choke on your voice."
Kyree flicked his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his boot. His storm-grey eyes swept over the crowd, then cut into Cutter. "She stays. Anyone who has a problem with that can come at me right now."
The silence that followed was thick. No one moved, but the air was heavy with things unsaid. Cutter's jaw flexed, his fists clenched, but he didn't step forward.
The argument broke when a cry cut through the camp. One of the wounded bikers, slumped against a bike with a bloody bandage over his chest, coughed up blood. His brothers rushed to him, but it was too late. His head lolled back, eyes staring blankly.
"Fuck," someone whispered.
The camp fell silent. One of the bikers closed the man's eyes, but his last words rasped out before he went still. "Kyree… You let her in… she'll… ruin us."
The words lingered like smoke long after he was gone. Cutter's gaze snapped back to me. "You heard him. Even dying, he knew the truth. She'll bring us all down."
Kyree moved before I could. He grabbed Cutter by the collar and dragged him away from the group. They stopped by Kyree's bike, voices low at first, then sharp enough for everyone to hear.
"You question me in front of my men again, and I'll bury you where you stand," Kyree growled.
Cutter shoved his hand away. "You're blinded, Kyree. She's got her claws in you, and you can't even see it. You're risking the whole Brotherhood for one girl."
Kyree's fists curled. His voice stayed low, but the weight in it was clear. "Say it again, Cutter. Say I'm blinded, and see if you can breathe after."
Cutter held his glare, then turned and stormed off. The men watching shifted uneasily, not daring to pick sides out loud, but the split was clear.
I sat back down, my chest tight. Ava whispered inside me, sharp as ever. They'll tear each other apart, and you'll be the excuse.
Later that night, Kyree's boots crunched on the dirt as he came back toward me. His face was shadowed, his shirt streaked with blood that wasn't all his. He crouched down, eyes level with mine.
"You think I can't see what they're thinking?" he asked quietly.
I lifted my chin. "Then why keep me here? They all want me gone. Some of them want me dead. What are you holding on for?"
"Because I'm not handing you to Drake and I'm sure as hell not giving you to Logan," he said flatly. "If you run, they'll catch you. If I give you up, I lose more than my men. I lose myself."
His words cut sharply, but I couldn't tell if it was honesty or chains tightening around me.
Before I could answer, a shout came from the edge of camp. A scout stumbled in, blood dripping from his arm, his face pale.
"They're regrouping," he gasped. "Logan's wolves. I saw them just outside the border and Drake's men too; both sides are waiting. They're circling us."
The camp erupted in curses and shouts. Men grabbed weapons, checking rifles and knives. Engines roared to life, but there was no confidence in the sound. Fear rippled through them like a sickness.
Kyree stood, his face like stone. He looked at me once, then turned to his men. "Get ready. They want a war and we'll give them one."
But the cracks were already there. I heard the whispers and I saw the looks. Some men muttered about leaving, about taking me to Logan to save their own skins.
I pulled the blanket tighter around me, my throat burning. I couldn't sit still anymore. I went to Kyree, standing in his shadow, forcing him to look at me.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Why keep me when I'm tearing your world apart?"
He looked down at me, his storm-grey eyes burning. "Because if I let you go, Isla, then I lose everything that's left of me."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightened up and my wolf was restless inside me. I wanted to believe him, but I didn't know if I could.
The night stretched on, full of whispers and weapons. Every word, every look, every shadow pressed heavily on me and I knew the storm hadn't even broken yet.