Alpha Step Daddy : Four Mates, One heart

RAVEN The rumble of motorcycles shook the diner's windows before I saw them. Fifteen bikes, maybe more, rolling down Main Street like a parade of chrome and danger. I didn't need to look up from wiping tables to know who led the pack. Everyone in Blackridge knew Dominic Steele. "Raven, honey, grab the coffee pot." Margie's voice carried that warning tone she used whenever the Iron Howlers rolled in. "And for God's sake, smile. These boys tip well when you're sweet." I wasn't sweet. I was tired, broke, and counting down the days until graduation set me free from this nowhere town and my mother's terrible taste in men. But I needed this job, so I grabbed the pot and painted on something resembling a smile. The bell above the door chimed as leather and testosterone filled the small space. I kept my eyes down, pouring coffee for the regulars, ignoring the way the temperature seemed to spike when the bikers claimed the back booths. I'd learned early that invisible was safe. "Raven Car

RAVEN Dominic walked me away from the car, away from Mom's crying, into the tree line where darkness swallowed us whole. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet followed him like they knew something my brain refused to accept. He stopped in a clearing where moonlight broke through the canopy, turning everything silver. When he faced me, his eyes reflected that light like an animal's. "You're going to think I'm insane," he said quietly. "But I need you to listen until I'm finished." "My mom just told me she's marrying a stranger, and now that stranger has dragged me into the woods." My voice shook despite my attempt at bravado. "I already think you're insane." His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Fair enough." He took a breath, and I watched his chest expand beneath the leather. "Werewolves are real, Raven. The Iron Howlers aren't just an MC, we're a pack. I'm the Alpha." I stared at him. Waited for the punchline. It didn't come. "You're serious."

RAVEN The warehouse smelled like rust, motor oil, and something feral I couldn't name. Jax's hand around my wrist was iron-hot, his grip just shy of painful as he dragged me to the center of the space where the other bikers formed a loose circle. "Let go of me." I tried to yank free, but he didn't budge. "Lesson two," he said, pulling me closer until I stumbled against his chest. "Never show weakness. The pack respects strength. Fear gets you killed." His eyes were black fire, and this close I could see the scars, one cutting through his eyebrow, another along his jaw. Battle scars. Killer's marks. "I'm not afraid of you," I lied. His smile was slow, dangerous. "Yes, you are. I can smell it on you." He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. "But that's okay, princess. Fear keeps you alive. Just don't let it make you stupid." He released me abruptly and I stumbled back, my wrist burning where he'd held me. The other bikers watched with predatory interest, and I realized they

RAVEN. He pulled the truck into a gravel lot a few miles down the road. It was a place called 'The Pit Stop,' barely more than a shack with a gas pump. "Stay close," Dominic said as we got out. "Do not wander off." "I'm just getting a burger, Dominic. Not fleeing the country." He didn't smile. He just guided me toward the door, his hand hovering at the small of my back without touching me. The diner was quiet. A few truckers sat at the counter while a waitress with tired eyes poured coffee. We took a booth in the corner. Dominic sat facing the door. He always faced the door. "Order whatever you want," he said. "Meat is best. Rare." I ordered two double cheeseburgers. The waitress didn't blink. While we waited, the door chimed and A guy walked in. He was young, maybe in his twenties. He was tall, with broad shoulders that filled out a grey hoodie. He had messy blond hair and a face that belonged on a magazine cover. He didn't look like a trucker. Neither did he loo

RAVEN. The bedroom door burst open and Dominic stood there, chest heaving, covered in blood that probably wasn't his and Jax was right behind him. Dominic scanned the room. He saw the shattered glass. He saw the dead Silverfang on the rug. He saw me, huddled on the floor, half-shifted and bleeding. "Raven." He crossed the room in two strides and dropped to his knees. He grabbed my face, his hands sticky with blood. "Are you bit?" he demanded. "Did it bite you?" "No," I managed. My teeth were shrinking back. The claws were receding, leaving my hands aching and raw. "I... I fought it." Jax walked over to the dead wolf. He nudged it with his boot. "Neck broken," Jax said, looking at me, eyebrows raised. "Clean snap. You did this, princess?" I hesitated. If I told them about the white wolf, would they believe me? Or would they think I was crazy? Or worse, would they hunt him? He had saved me. He felt... important. "I don't know," I lied. "I panicked. I just wanted