Page 25 of North’s Claim

Chapter 10

North

By the time I ride back into the compound, the sun's dying over the horizon and the dust from my tires hasn’t even settled yet.

My head’s clearer. The cliffs helped. The roar of the engine, the silence of the trees, the weight of it all… it gave me space to breathe. Space to think. Space to try and find a way not to fuck this up.

I walk through the door and find her folding the laundry again. That same damn quiet hums in the house. No TV. No music. No sign of life except the rise and fall of her chest as she folds a t-shirt like it’s glass.

I stand in the doorway for a second, watching her. She doesn’t even look up. Her eyes stay pinned to her hands, her shoulders curled in like she’s afraid I’ll snap at any second. It fucking kills me. She walks like the floor is landmined. Always glancing down. Never at me.

She still doesn’t trust me, maybe she never will. Not that I can blame her but silence is not an option anymore. Not for either of us.

“We’re going out tonight.”

She freezes mid-fold. Her fingers twitch like she’s trying to pretend she didn’t hear me. Then she looks up, panic already pooling in her eyes. That look makes something in me snap again. I want to punch the wall. Shatter something. I settle for clenching my fists until my knuckles scream.

“It’s just a walk,” I add, softer this time. “Nothing more.”

She hesitates, then nods. Barely.

Orange bleeds into blue, and Ravell’s quiet but alive.

A few members nod our way. One waves. Nyxa lifts her hand in response, but it’s hesitant, unsure.

I stop and turn to face her. Her gaze drops to the ground again.

“Nyxa, look at me.”

She doesn’t.

I step in front of her, gently take her chin and lift it until her eyes meet mine. “I know shit ain’t easy,” I sigh, “but here? You’re safe. Do you understand?”

She gives me a tiny nod.

“Can’t hear you.”

Her voice is barely there. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

I take a step back and spread my arms. “I want you to fight for your life. For your freedom. For yourself.”

Her eyes widen. She looks around like something’s gonna leap out of the shadows and drag her back to hell.

“I don’t know how to fight,” she whispers.

I huff, trying to hold back the rage curling in my gut. “You fought when you chose to come with me,” I tell her. “That was your first swing. You’re not a prisoner anymore. This—” I motion to the neighborhood, the clubhouse in the distance, the open road beyond. “—this can be home. If you want it.”

“Can it?” she asks, voice tight. “Like a candy?”

The growl that rips from my chest shocks even me.

“Never as a candy, Nyxa.” My voice is low. “That should’ve been your choice. Not what someone drilled into your head.”

She stares at me, more confused than ever.

“I don’t know how to do this shit, Nyxa. I’m rough. I yell. I’m not soft. But I’m trying,” I admit, raking a hand down my face. “I need a little help here, because I’m so fucking mad you have no idea.”

Her breath catches. “What… what did I do?”