Claimed by the Beast

Ava's POV

That nagging sensation something terrible is coming.

You can't explain it.

But it crawls beneath your skin like electricity.

That's what I feel approaching The Hounds of Anarchy clubhouse.

William expected me twenty minutes ago.

I'm late because Liam called.

My oldest brother always has perfect timing.

All four of my brothers are overprotective.

Being the only daughter and youngest does that.

But I never ignore their calls.

This unease churns in my stomach.

Screaming at me to leave.

To call William with some weak excuse.

Pathetic? Definitely.

But my intuition has never been wrong.

Liam always warned me: "Trust your instincts, Ava. Yours are sharper than any of ours."

I step inside cautiously.

Scanning the room while staying near the entrance.

Thankfully I dressed casually today.

Worn jeans, band t-shirt, combat boots.

My brown hair braided down my back.

Loose clothing hiding my curves.

I'm only here for William.

Most club members tolerate me.

But they make sure I remember my place.

I'm not an old lady.

Not a club bunny.

Just...Ava.

Some women here make that especially clear.

The subtle insults.

The cold shoulders.

The judgmental stares.

If women won't support each other, what's the point?

I approach the bar where a Prospect serves drinks.

Sophia works beside him.

She manages the bar more than playing bunny.

Probably trying to escape that reputation.

The Prospect nods. "What'll it be?"

Neutrality. I appreciate that.

No drama tonight, please.

Though my gut says otherwise.

Tension thickened the moment I crossed that threshold.

"Vodka cranberry." I watch him mix my drink.

He slides it over with a brief nod.