Alpha in Leather

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 Carter?"

The voice rolled over me like warm whiskey, dark and smooth with an edge that promised danger. I looked up and forgot how to breathe.

Dominic Steele stood three feet away, and he was nothing like the men my mother usually brought home. He had to be forty, maybe older, with silver threading through black hair pulled back in a short tail. Tattoos crawled up his neck, disappearing beneath a leather cut that screamed authority. But it was his eyes that trapped me, wolf-gold and impossibly intense, like they could see straight through skin to something deeper.

"That's me." I hated how breathless I sounded.

"Your mother talks about you." He extended a hand, and I noticed the scars across his knuckles, the calluses that said he worked with those hands. "I'm Dominic. I've been seeing Diana for a few months now."

Of course he had. My mother collected dangerous men like other women collected shoes.

His hand swallowed mine, warm and rough, and electricity shot up my arm. I yanked back like I'd been burned, coffee pot sloshing. His eyes flashed, actually flashed gold and something that looked like shock crossed his face before his expression locked down into careful neutrality.

"Nice to meet you," I lied, stepping back. My skin still tingled where he'd touched me. "Mom didn't mention she was seeing anyone."

"She wanted me to tell you myself." He watched me with unnerving focus, like I was a puzzle he couldn't solve. "I'm picking her up after your shift. Thought we could all grab dinner, get to know each other."

"I have homework." The lie came easily. I'd spent years perfecting excuses to avoid my mother's boyfriends.

"Raven." His voice dropped lower, and I felt it in my chest like a physical thing. "It's important."

A younger guy appeared at Dominic's shoulder, tall, built, with dark eyes and an enforcer's stance. "Boss, we need to move."

Dominic didn't look away from me. "Jax, give us a minute."

"We don't have a minute. The Silverfangs—"

"I said give us a minute." The command in his voice made Jax step back immediately, and I realized this wasn't just a biker. This was a leader, someone men feared and followed without question.

Dominic pulled a card from his pocket, pressing it into my hand. His fingers brushed mine again, and that same electric current raced through me, stronger this time. He felt it too—I saw it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his nostrils flared like he was scenting something.

"Call your mother," he said quietly. "She needs to talk to you. Tonight."

Then he was gone, his pack flowing out behind him like a dangerous tide. The diner felt too empty without them, too normal, and I was left staring at a business card that read "Iron Howlers MC" with a phone number beneath.

"Jesus, that man is fine." Margie fanned herself dramatically. "Your mama sure knows how to pick them."

She really didn't. But this one felt different. They all felt dangerous, but Dominic felt like something else entirely. Something that made my skin prickle and my heart race for reasons I didn't want to examine.

My phone buzzed. Mom's name lit up the screen.

*We need to talk. Coming to get you after your shift. Please don't run. This is important. I love you.*

Dread pooled in my stomach. Mom only said "I love you" in texts when things were bad. Really bad.

I looked out the window where the last of the motorcycles disappeared around the corner, and something inside me twisted. For just a moment, I'd sworn I saw Dominic looking back, those gold eyes finding me through the glass like he knew exactly where I stood.

Like he could feel me the same way I felt him.

My hand still tingled where he'd touched it, and deep in my chest, something I'd never felt before stirred. Something wild and wanting that had no business existing.

I pressed my palm against my ribs, trying to calm my racing heart, and wondered what the hell my mother had gotten us into this time.