{The Wattys Awards Shortlist} The Saint's Brotherhood motorcycle club was known all over town, they were ruthless. They were feared, they got their reputation from one member in particular, one member that was so unbelievably intriguing and mysterious, people made legends and stories about him. They didn't know his name, didn't know who he was, where he came from, and they didn't know what he looked like for he wore a mask. The man himself struck fear into everyone he meant, he was the club's personal Devil. But she was okay with him.

Rage is the residential psycho of the club. Tormented by his own demons he lives in pain and agony, a constant state of rage. Everyone knows him as the Hellhound of the Riders of Tyr , known for his cruelty and the joy he gets from causing pain. To others and to himself. Loyal to his King and the club he craves for the liberation death will bring him. Till he meets Iris. Iris has escaped Hell and lives out on the streets till she surprises everyone and becomes a mechanic for the Riders. Afraid of her own shadow, plagued by the terrifying memories she never feels safe. Until she meets Rage.

To the world he was a beast but for her he would do anything. He could have the world but all he wanted was her. They say the things we want most are the things we can't have. For she was so afraid of him that even the thought of him could have her running for the hills. Little did she know that she was the only one who didn't have to be afraid of him. Credits for the cover go to @Chatachino for the amazing cover.

He was powerful. He was terrifying. Said to be cruel and unjust. Terrifyingly possessive. He had the world, but to him she was his world. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his miraculum.

Aubrey Wilson has the heart of an angel. As the type of person to always trust in others, she's admirable to peers. A total darling, but with a sadness that encases her heart. Anyone could shrink down in fright at the receiving end of Luke Taylor's infamous glare. Tall, muscular, dark-haired, and handsome, he's no stranger on or off the field. Not a kind stranger either. A total brooding asshole, but with a sadness that encases his heart. --- "You didn't have to hit him or anything," I lie my head on his broad, strong shoulder. "He shouldn't have touched you like that," he tucks a curl behind my ear. ~Strong Language~ ~Mild Violence~

She's a wild, free spirit who sees the good in everyone, and he's the hardened, bad-tempered loner who wants nothing to do with her-yet no matter how hard he tries to push her away, she's the one temptation he can't escape. *** He's never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she says every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other. She's never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find it, whether he likes it or not. It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites. *** "You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing. He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl. He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away. "You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering. "I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk. *** #1 in Young Adult #9 in Badboy #1 in Cold #3 in Goodgirl #1 in Sweetheart #14 in Love *** *Warning* This story contains mature themes (language, scenes)

She looked up, tears drenching her dark eyelashes. She sees him in the obsidian shadows of the room. A scream is stuck in her throat, unable to erupt from her mouth. She tries to turn and run, but as she moves her feet and takes a step, muscly arms encircle her waist. She feels her body lift above the ground, and seconds later her back slams against the wall. His fingers dig into her wrists, making her feel a stinging pain shoot up her arms. Her eyes are shut tight. 'Open your eyes'. She keeps them shut. 'Open your eyes, angel'. Her head is twisted to side, wanting to melt into the wall. His broad chest pressed up against every inch of her skin. He slams her against the wall again, making her yelp in pain, 'I SAID OPEN YOUR EYES!' She opens them slowly and looks at his face. She can see his eyes, black pools of emotion. Obsession. Lust. Possessiveness. Desire. Love. Dominance. Angelica Ziva Kareem. A beautiful, young woman, who aspires to complete her degree in Medicine. Her dream? To travel the world, to be free and to help those in need. Gabriel Dominic Rodrigo. Handsome, dark, possessive. Rich and hard working to the world above. Monster to the underworld. His life? What he wants, he gets. And he has his eyes set on little Angelica.