Iron Vultures MC Series by Gabrielle Melo

Cora Maddox should stay the hell away from me.I see her behind that bar night after night, all curves and fire, trying to pretend she’s not watching me just as hard as I’m watching her. She doesn’t belong in my world—not with the patch on my back and blood on my knuckles—but something about her quiet defiance keeps dragging me in like a hook to the gut.I told myself I was just stopping in for a drink... moreCora Maddox should stay the hell away from me.I see her behind that bar night after night, all curves and fire, trying to pretend she’s not watching me just as hard as I’m watching her. She doesn’t belong in my world—not with the patch on my back and blood on my knuckles—but something about her quiet defiance keeps dragging me in like a hook to the gut.I told myself I was just stopping in for a drink. Instead, I ended up throwing fists to keep her safe, staring down one of my own brothers as he crossed every line. And now? Now I’m following her home like a damn shadow, bruised, bleeding, and already in too deep.She patched me up with hands that shook and eyes that didn’t. And when she kissed me, I stopped thinking altogether. For one perfect moment, nothing else mattered—not the club, not the threat crawling closer, not even the blood on my shirt.But I’ve got enemies, and she’s the one weakness they’ll aim for.I should walk away. I should push her back behind that bar and pretend none of this ever happened.But if anyone lays a hand on Cora Maddox, I’ll burn this whole city down. Because she might not wear my patch—but she’s mine. less

Twenty-two years old, and Rosalie's already paying for sins that were never hers—until Saint decides to collect.I should've walked away the moment I saw her. Twenty-two, doe-eyed, sharp-tongued, standing in that doorway with fire in her veins. She's Patrick's daughter—the man who thought he could barter his own flesh and blood to wipe a debt clean. She's the last woman I should be looking at, the one line I swore I'd never cross... moreTwenty-two years old, and Rosalie's already paying for sins that were never hers—until Saint decides to collect.I should've walked away the moment I saw her. Twenty-two, doe-eyed, sharp-tongued, standing in that doorway with fire in her veins. She's Patrick's daughter—the man who thought he could barter his own flesh and blood to wipe a debt clean. She's the last woman I should be looking at, the one line I swore I'd never cross. But the way she glares, the way she trembles and still refuses to break... it guts me.Her father's mess put her in my path, but every breath I take around her makes it less about business and more about need. I catch myself listening for her laugh, memorizing the curve of her lips, watching the defiance in her eyes when she tells me "no" like she doesn't already belong to me.Rosalie thinks I'm here to collect, to drag her into the fire her old man lit. Maybe I am. But the more she pushes back, the more I know I can't let anyone else touch her. Not the Vultures. Not even fate.Her life may have started as collateral, but she's mine now. And I'll burn the whole damn world before I let her slip away. less