Warlock – Black Reign MC Read Online Marteeka Karland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 192(@200wpm)___ 154(@250wpm)___ 128(@300wpm)

Warlock: Love didn’t stop me from killing my ex when I had to — wasn’t a choice I made lightly, but more lives than hers were on the line. Black Reign gave me the second chance I didn’t deserve, and never again would I put a woman above my club.
Then along comes this little vagabond who claims my mother left me to her in her will. Is that even possible? And to top it off, it looks like my mother pulled some strings and got us married. Without my consent. Still, I think I’d rather be married to the crazy woman my mother foisted off on me than play Santa at the club’s annual Christmas party. Yeah. Not a role I’m made for.

Hope: Christmas magic being what it is, maybe I can get my fondest wish this year. To say Warlock isn’t happy to find out he’s married to me is the biggest understatement in the history of understatements. Still doesn’t make me want my fantasy lover any less.
Warlock represents everything I’ve ever wanted in life. But the fact that I achieved my dreams through more manipulation — even if it wasn’t of my doing — means I have to give him up. But first, Warlock has to see beyond his past and embrace a future he never wanted.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



“Shh, Bev. Look at me.”

“I don’t want to look at you, you bastard!”

“But you will. You shared my bed. I gave you everything you ever wanted. Gave you more than I was prepared to give when I met you but did it willingly. The least you can do is look at me now.”

Bev finally looked up at me. I cupped her face gently, needing to look into her beautiful, deceitful eyes one last time. I wanted to remember the good times but struggled to recall any. She’d used me from the first day I’d met her and her daughter. She’d cost me everything. My club. My self-respect. My brothers. Even my son.

I bent to kiss her. Her lips were as sweet as ever, but there was more of a saccharine sweetness than there had ever been before. I lingered only a moment before I lifted my head. I retained my gentle hold on her face, knowing what I was about to do, but praying she didn’t. I gazed down into her eyes before shifting my hold slightly and wrenching her head hard to the right, snapping her neck.

The second her neck broke, Bev’s body collapsed. I caught her and sank to the ground, raising my face to the sky to bellow in pain. I’d loved her. So fucking much. She hadn’t loved me back. She’d deceived me. Probably from the first day we’d met. But, to me, it had all been real.

Now I had nothing. My son, Sting, was now president of Iron Tzars, and I was gone. I’d always be there for him if he needed me, but I knew was dead to him. With good reason. By knowingly allowing Bev to manipulate me, I’d betrayed the club. They should have killed me, but Sting had made an exception because of my years of service to the club. It was a weakness I prayed didn’t come back to haunt him later. I’d caused enough trouble in his life without that.

I’d never have my family back. All because of this unworthy woman. I comforted myself with the fact that her daughter, Chloe, had found a good home and a strong protector. I wasn’t sure what I’d do with my life now, but one thing was for damned sure. I was never getting involved with another woman.

Chapter One


One Month Later

“You’re out of your Goddamned mind, Samson.”

“El Diablo says you’re the one for the job. He’s president. His word is law.”

“No fuckin’ way.” I missed the day when that particular growl of displeasure sent men scurrying off to do my bidding. Those days were over now. I was barely more than a prospect with this new club. Black Reign was similar to Iron Tzars in that they pretty much did as they pleased. They tried to look all badass and shit, but they catered to their women worse than even Bones. Especially the girl children. The boys learned to protect the girls and took their roles seriously. While I appreciated the sentiment, my wound was still too raw.

“Well, you’re free to leave. No one’s stoppin’ ya.”

“What the fuck, Samson? I’ve done everything this club has asked of me since I got here! Surely to fuckin’ God, there is someone else better qualified to do this!”

“Probably. El Diablo says he wants you.” Samson looked me up and down, shaking his head in disapproval. “God only knows why.”

“This is absurd. I ain’t doing it.”

“Stop being such a fuckin’ pussy, Warlock. Everyone takes a turn. Even El Diablo, though he loves it. This year it’s your turn. Low man on the totem pole.”

“I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Nope. You got drafted. Get used to it. You got a couple weeks to come to terms with the fact that you’re gonna be the Jolly Old Elf.” Samson, the bastard, grinned like a motherfucker. “You’ll be thankful when the kids get to the party. Besides, this is Dawn’s favorite part of the Christmas party. You don’t put on your best Santa Claus performance, El Diablo will have your balls.”

“He wants his daughter to not be disappointed, he needs to get someone else. I ain’t no fuckin’ Santa Claus.”

Samson shrugged as he turned to go. “You don’t wanna do it? You tell El Diablo yourself. It’s your funeral, pal.”

Fuck. I didn’t fuckin’ need this.

I snagged the freshly dry-cleaned Santa suit from the bar where Samson had laid it. The prospect snickered but quickly turned his back. Normally, I’d have punched the motherfucker in the face, but it didn’t seem worth the Goddamned trouble. Looked like I was stuck on Santa duty.

Fuck… fuck.

I stalked to the room I’d been given a month ago. The only things in the place were a few changes of clothes and a bed. I hung the fucking Santa suit on the bathroom door and sat on the bed, scrubbing a hand over my face.