Cage: Iron Mountain Pride MC

By Mariah Thayer

Dawn Miller ran away from home–and her fated mate–the minute she graduated high school. Her soul was stifled in Springset, Montana, and being mated to Erik Rowles would have bound her there for good. She wanted a life of her own. She wanted to see the world. She wanted to find herself. So she ran.

 

Erik Rowles, left behind when his mate fled their hometown for college in Colorado, joined Iron Mountain Pride MC and sealed his fate. Or so everyone thought. But in a power grab meant to reform the club and clean up the mountain lion shifters' territory, Erik and his Brothers manage to turn the MC around and make strides toward redemption.

 

Years have passed. Neither of them is the same naive child they were.

 

Dawn is coming home. And she isn't alone. Pulled back to Montana and the safety of family, Dawn returns to Springset in the hopes of creating a new life for herself and her young son. But the boy's father, dangerous and controlling, wants his progeny and his plaything back under his thumb. And he is willing to cross into IMP territory to retrieve them.

 

Can IMP keep the uncontrollable rival crew at bay and give Dawn a chance at a fresh start? And can Dawn and Erik finally overcome the impulse to run, and open their eyes and hearts to the possibility they've had in one another all along?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mariah Thayer
• Release date: Aug 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215549568

Mariah Thayer

Author of urban fantasy and the occasional paranormal romance. Inked lady, writing mama, and traveling weird girl.

Book preview

Cage

Iron Mountain Pride MC

Mariah Thayer

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Copyright © 2023 by Mariah Thayer

Cover design by K.O. Newman of Whisker and Quill Designs

All rights reserved.

This work in its entirety was written by a human—no AI was used in its creation. All names, events, and locales mentioned within are fictional or are used fictitiously. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

Author's Note

Dedication

Chapter

1.Dawn

2.Erik

3.Dawn

4.Erik

5.Dawn

6.Erik

7.Dawn

8.Erik

9.Dawn

10.Erik

11.Dawn

12.Erik

13.Dawn

14.Erik

15.Dawn

16.Erik

17.Dawn

18.Erik

19.Dawn

20.Erik

21.Dawn

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Author's Note

Cage is another one of those projects that haunted me for two years and I'm so grateful it's finally out in the world. This prequel novella is the first of a series of shifter motorcycle club romances. While each book ends in an HEA, they also include scenes of explicit intimacy and violence, along with grittier, darker themes, and as such are not appropriate for readers under 18. Cage contains some specific sensitive content including intimate partner violence, stalking, and amputation.

The Iron Mountain Pride MC series will also include LGBTQIA and polyamorous relationships, so if that's not your bag, I recommend moving on.

For the family members picking this up: there's sex. Raunchy sex. The sequel to Bune will be out soon. Wait for that. Unless me graphically describing sex doesn't bother you. In which case, proceed! Enjoy! Text me about it later.

Another book my grandpa won't recommend to his friends.

To Miri Stone, my distracted barista.

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Dawn

1990

The tightness between my shoulder blades was a full-on ache after seventeen hours of nearly non-stop driving, but there were only a few miles between myself and my destination at this point. I reminded myself of that every few minutes as my Cherokee ate up the road. My eyes darted up to the rearview to glance at Isaac sleeping across the back seat, his head pillowed on his favorite elephant stuffie, his hand-knitted baby blanket thrown over his shoulders. His face was angelic.

Almost there, I muttered.

We’d left Colorado at three in the morning. It had taken days of careful planning to get the essentials into bags and stashed away so they wouldn’t be found. So no one would know we were leaving. It was nearly sunset now–and I was grateful for the long stretch of daylight in summer. Grateful for the clear roads.

Grateful this trip was almost over. We were nearly home.

I scrubbed my fingers through my hair as I exhaled in a rush, slumping into the seat and resigning myself to the next hour or so behind the wheel.

The sound of a motor louder than mine, the fierce and thunderous growl of a beast, caught my ear before I saw the cherry red American muscle eating up the road behind me. Whoever they were, they drove like their ass was on fire.

Or like an asshole.

An asshole they turned out to be as they rapidly closed on me, riding right up on me like they were trying to get intimately acquainted. I gritted my teeth. The highway was empty–it was rare to run into another driver in this part of the country. You might drive hours without seeing another person. Hell, I could count on my hands the number of vehicles I’d seen on I-25 the whole drive through Wyoming, and most of them were eighteen-wheelers. Law enforcement was a rare sight out on these roads, and most state troopers wouldn’t spare you a passing glance doing ten over unless they were bored.

This guy was taking advantage.

Once upon a time speeding on the open road in a sexy car might have excited me. Not tonight.

A threatening, frustrated rumble vibrated in my chest, and Isaac stirred but did not wake.

Before I could think what to do, the asshole switched lanes–over the double yellow lines on this one-lane mountain country highway–and sped past me, darting back into the proper lane so close to me that I had to brake to avoid hitting them as they gunned up the hill, engine roaring.

My patience vanished, and a black rage rolled over me.

My fucking baby was in this car, and this asshole could have killed us.

I stomped the accelerator until I drew closer, and to my surprise they pulled away from the highway at the next exit where a gas station promised 63 cents to the gallon–half what I’d been paying in Colorado. I used my blinker in spite of the empty roads, because I am not an asshole. My daddy may not have been able to save me from the hell of the last four years, but he’d taught me to drive like a respectable adult.

Following close onto his tail into the dirt and gravel parking lot, I came to a less abrupt stop than my temper demanded–mindful of Isaac still sleeping–and tore the seatbelt off my chest, shoving my vehicle door open as anger and exhaustion made a soup out of my brain.

My nail beds itched, and I didn’t care. My claws were out. This dick was going to find out what happened when you played asshole games on the road with a mountain lion shifter mama when her baby was sleeping in the back seat.

I ached to rake my claws over the glossy paint job of this gorgeous car. A ‘69 Chevelle SS–a panty-melting car. It had been my favorite for years, since I’d started going to car shows with my father before I’d ever learned to drive, but I’d never even sat in one. My hand hesitated centimeters from the rear of the vehicle as I stomped my way up to the driver’s side door.

No sooner had I hesitated than the door opened, and I was assaulted instantly with the smells of tobacco and leather and a scent so achingly familiar that it stopped me in my tracks. The scent of a man I’d once known and sworn I’d never speak to again.

Erik Rowles unfolded his long, lean body from the driver’s seat. There was no leather on his shoulders tonight–unlike the last time I’d seen him, straddling his roaring black motorcycle–but I’d heard that bikers in gangs didn’t wear their cuts in a cage. Didn’t matter, because I could still smell it on him. Leather and blood. His ashy hair was unruly, sticking up every which way.

Those gray eyes, so familiar, eyes I’d known all my life, looked at me with first annoyance, then surprise. For a moment we were suspended in time, strangers too familiar with one another.

My fated mate stared at me as if he could not believe I was real.

A flood of heat swept over me and I felt the prickle of a blush creeping up my neck, my face flushing as a whole cascade of things I never planned to allow myself to feel again overwhelmed me. Everything about him called to some roaring, primal place in me I’d decided had been best left buried. Everything from the tilt of his lips to the way he commanded space to the timber of his voice. The man who was meant to be mine.

His lips parted and he tensed as if to step forward, to close the distance between us, and it ignited my survival instincts. Before he could speak, I was turning on my heels, bolting back to the safety of the Cherokee, all the fury bled right out of me on the dirt of that lot as panic set in. Isaac had woken up and was peering at me from between the front seats as I threw myself into the driver’s seat, cranked the engine, stomped the gas pedal into the floor as my son quietly slid himself back into his seat and tugged his seatbelt on wordlessly, sensing my tension.

My little cub knew when Mama was not in a mood to ask questions and it was time to simply go, quick as we could, no delays. Even at this young age. It hurt my heart sometimes that he couldn’t simply be a child, but moments like this made me grateful.

Heart pounding in my chest as I tore out of the lot, kicking up rocks–halfway hoping they hit the Chevelle, halfway hoping they didn’t–I ate up the road to the exit and turned back onto the on ramp, accelerating to speed a little too fast. I needed to get the anxiety under control.

Would he follow me? I didn’t know.

He’d never hurt you.

I shushed the voice, because it didn’t matter. What had passed between us was… unforgivable. And it was half my own fault.

But I couldn’t drive with my vision blurring as my focus narrowed into a tight tunnel before me, my stomach twisting and my hands trembling with adrenaline. I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering.

Mommy, Isaac said. Are you okay?

His gentleness speared my heart, and I found myself suddenly on the verge of tears. A blue sign indicated a rest stop one exit ahead, and my body made the choice without my brain’s permission to turn off on that exit, pulling into the lot to park, taking deep breaths.

The air here tasted like home. It tasted like the safety of childhood. Like purple clover and Ponderosa pine. Like sage and juniper and dust and sweetgrass. The high desert plains and mountains of the West were my soul. Why I’d never been able to leave the Rockies. Only relocate to Colorado where they could still sing to me.

But Erik Rowles was one reminder of home I wasn’t sure I could tolerate. And yet, it would be inevitable. Springset wasn’t a large town. And it was more his town these days than mine. I’d been gone nearly a decade, now–except my brief failed attempt at reconnecting five years ago–and he’d never left.

Isaac unbuckled himself and crawled in between the seats to sit in the front passenger, reaching for my hand and squeezing it in his small ones. Only three years old and so empathetic that it hurt. So gentle I couldn’t bear it–because the world wasn’t kind to gentle little boys. Lord knew his father wouldn’t have allowed him to keep that gentleness if we’d stayed.

Which was why I’d left. Because no one would steal that light from my son. I’d rather face all the pain and humiliation of my past to give him a piece of home and safety that would nurture him and his gentleness. No matter that it wasn’t popular for a man to be that way. Or… no man I’d ever known. Erik had certainly not grown into a gentle man. The MC had ensured that.

But hadn’t I played a role? If I hadn’t left, he’d never have joined that damned club. Never risen to become their Enforcer. To become a criminal.

Shaking my head, I drew in the deepest breath I could manage and held it in my chest where the tightness there made the expansion of grief and shock feel unbearable. Slowly, achingly slowly, that tightness began to ease, the tide of my emotions gently falling from the crest of the wave into a gentler valley of calm. I released that breath and wiped the tears from my face.

Why was I crying over this? He was just a man. It was inevitable I would run into him sometime.

Mama’s okay, baby bean, I told my son, smiling. Just pretty tired. It’s been a long day on the road, hasn’t it? But we’re almost home to Papa and Gramma’s house. And we’ll stop then. I just needed a break.

Okay. Can I sit up front?

No, sir. You may not. Climb back–

The roar of an engine once more caught my attention. A bolt of shock ran through me as I saw that red beast pull up alongside me and come to a stop, the door swinging open with the engine still running.

Erik rose from inside the car, eyes burning into me. Something in them I couldn’t understand. He stood outside my door, folded his arms over his chest… and waited.

I glanced at Isaac, who watched the man outside with