Claimed By The Biker Kings: Their Forbidden Queen

Jaxon’s grip on my wrist was iron as he pulled me through the side door into what looked like a cross between a gym and a battlefield. The air smelled of sweat, leather, and metal. Mats lined the floor, scuffed and stained from countless fights. Punching bags hung like silent wardens, and a rack of weapons—knives, batons, even a few guns—gleamed against the far wall.

“Welcome to the real training ground,” Jaxon said, releasing me with a shove that wasn’t quite gentle. His amber eyes burned, assessing me like I was a recruit about to break. “You talk a big game, princess. Let’s see if you can back it up.”

I squared my shoulders, still buzzing from the meeting with the Serpents. “I’m not afraid of a little sweat.”

His laugh was low, dangerous. “This ain’t about sweat. It’s about survival. You froze out there with Viper’s teeth snapping. You freeze like that with the Vultures, you’re dead.”

Maddox leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Go easy on her, Beast. She’s still shiny and new.”

Ronan, beside him, adjusted his cufflinks. “Or don’t. If she’s going to stay, she needs to learn fast.”

“Learn what?” I asked, planting my feet. “How to take a punch?”

“How to throw one,” Jaxon said, stripping off his leather jacket to reveal a black tank clinging to every hard line of his body. Scars crisscrossed his arms, a map of violence that made my pulse race. “And how to keep standing when someone’s trying to put you down.”

He tossed me a pair of padded gloves. “Put these on. You’re sparring with me.”

“Sparring?” I caught the gloves, my stomach twisting. “You’re twice my size.”

“And the Vultures won’t be?” He stepped onto the mat, rolling his shoulders like a predator loosening up for the hunt. “Move, Alina. Or I’ll make you.”

The command in his voice sent a shiver through me. Fear mixed with something hotter that I didn’t want to name. I slipped on the gloves, fumbling with the straps. Maddox sauntered over, his fingers brushing mine as he tightened them.

“Don’t let him break you, Little Viper,” he murmured, lips close to my ear. “Not unless you want him to.”

“Enough flirting,” Jaxon snapped, beckoning me onto the mat. “Let’s go.”

I stepped forward, heart pounding. He didn’t even wait for me to settle. His fist came fast, a controlled jab aimed at my shoulder. I dodged on instinct, stumbling slightly.

“Not bad,” he said, circling me. “But instincts won’t save you. You need to think.”

He came at me again, faster this time. I threw up an arm to block, but his other hand hooked my wrist, twisting it just enough to make me gasp. He used the moment to sweep my legs, sending me crashing to the mat.

“Too slow,” he growled, looming over me. “Get up.”

I scrambled to my feet, anger flaring. “That’s not teaching—that’s knocking me down!”

“Lesson one: the world doesn’t wait for you to learn.” He lunged again, and I ducked, swinging a clumsy punch at his ribs. He caught my fist mid-air, his grip like a vise. “Lesson two: don’t give away your moves.”

He pulled me forward, spinning me until my back slammed against his chest. His arm locked around my waist, his breath hot against my neck. “Lesson three,” he growled, lips so close they grazed my skin, “never let them get this close.”

My body betrayed me completely. God, why did I like this? His scent—leather, sweat, and something primal—made my head spin. I drove my elbow back, aiming for his ribs. He grunted but held tight, his grip tightening.

“Good,” he murmured, voice rough as gravel. “Fight dirty. You’ll need to.”

I twisted free, spinning to face him, my chest heaving. His eyes locked on mine, and the room seemed to shrink, the air thick with something heavier than sparring. I swung again, harder, aiming for his jaw. He blocked, grabbing both my wrists and slamming me back against the mat.

His body pinned mine, heavy and deliberate, his thighs bracketing my hips. My breath caught as his face hovered inches above mine, amber eyes burning with something that wasn’t just anger.

“You freeze like this with a Vulture,” he said, voice low and jagged, “you’re dead.”

“Then teach me not to,” I shot back, hating the way my body arched toward his, craving the pressure.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a moment, I thought he’d close the gap. His grip on my wrists tightened, pinning them above my head, and his thigh shifted, pressing harder between mine. A small sound escaped me—half gasp, half something else—and his eyes darkened.

“You’re playing with fire, princess.”

I hated how breathless I sounded. “Maybe I want to get burned.”

“Jaxon,” Ronan’s voice cut through, sharp and warning. “Enough.”

Jaxon froze, his breath ragged. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move, his eyes still locked on mine, like he was fighting himself as much as me. Then he shoved off, standing with a curse under his breath, leaving me sprawled on the mat, my skin buzzing like I’d been electrified.

Maddox clapped slowly, his grin wicked. “Well, that was educational.”

“Shut it,” I muttered, yanking off the gloves with trembling hands. My body was a traitor, still aching for Jaxon’s weight.

Jaxon grabbed his cut, not looking at me. “You’ve got fight, Alina. But you need control. Tomorrow, we do this again.”

I nodded, struggling to steady my breathing. “Bring it.”

Ronan stepped closer, his green eyes dissecting me. “You held your own. Barely. But surviving Jaxon isn’t enough. You need to be dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?” I asked, standing to meet his gaze.

“By knowing when to strike,” he said, voice smooth but edged. “And when to run.”

Maddox slid beside me, his hand grazing my arm, sending another jolt through me. “She’s learning, Shadow. Give her time.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a purr. “You’re wound up tight, Little Viper. Maybe you need dinner.”

My phone buzzed, cutting through the haze. Another text from Viktor: Getting cozy with the Beast? Tick-tock, princess. You can’t hide forever.

I showed it to them, my blood running cold. Jaxon’s fists clenched, Ronan’s eyes narrowed, and Maddox’s grin vanished.

“Viktor’s not playing,” Ronan said, voice like ice. “He’s baiting you.”

“Then let’s bait back,” I said, surprising myself with the steel in my voice.

Maddox’s grin widened. “There’s our queen.”

As they led me out of the gym, Jaxon glanced back, his eyes still fiery. “Rest up, princess. Tomorrow, I won’t go easy.”

I met his gaze, my own defiance rising. “Good. I don’t want it to be easy.”

We walked through the compound’s corridors, my legs still shaky from the sparring session. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind a strange mix of exhaustion and electric energy.

“You need food,” Ronan observed, studying my face with clinical precision.

Maddox appeared at my side, his smile sharp as a blade. “And answers. Time to play a little game, Little Viper.”

The way he said ‘game’ made my blood run cold.