Chapter 6

The ride takes almost half a day. We’re all packed in a black van — me, Calix, and five of his bikers. The back is filled with toolboxes, helmets, and spare bike parts that rattle every time the van hits a bump. Calix sits beside me, one arm resting on the window, quiet as usual. The others are loud, tossing jokes, arguing about who’ll win the tournament.

Music plays from someone’s phone, loud and heavy. Even though it’s noisy, I’m lost in my own head. I still don’t know how I ended up agreeing to this, pretending to be Calix’s girlfriend.

Every now and then, he glances at me, but I don’t say anything. I just stare out the window and watch the road blur past.

Hours later, the smell of saltwater starts creeping in, and the breeze changes. When I see the stretch of blue in the distance, I know we’re close.

The tournament is held by the beach, a massive place that looks like a vacation resort turned into a biker base. Rows of tents, metal barricades, and banners line the sand. Dozens of bikes glint under the sun, their engines growling as men test them on short runs. The sound of engines and the crashing waves mix together like chaos and rhythm.

We pull up near the main lodge, a big wooden building facing the sea. It’s got open balconies, palm trees swaying by the entrance, and people moving everywhere. Every racer and their crew are given rooms, and the track itself runs along the edge of the beach.

When I step out, sand crunches under my boots, and a warm breeze hits my face. The noise around me is constant — laughter, shouts, metal clanging, waves rolling. Calix’s crew unloads the bikes while he talks to someone from the organizing team. I stay back, pretending to be busy with my bag.

Once we get our room key, Calix nods toward the building. “Come on.”

The room is small but decent. One bed, one couch, a small balcony overlooking the water. He drops his jacket on the chair and stretches. “Get used to the noise. It’s gonna be like this for the next three months,” he says.

I don’t answer. I’m not here for comfort.

Later that evening, after settling down, the first gathering starts — all the teams and their sponsors meet by the beach for introductions. Torches burn along the path, and the sunset paints everything gold and red. I walk beside Calix, keeping my head down, trying not to draw attention.

And then it happens.

A sharp pull deep inside my chest like a thread snapping to life after years of silence. My steps freeze. The bond. The mate bond.

My breath catches as a painful warmth spreads through me, twisting my stomach. I know this feeling. I’ve felt it before.

Slowly, I lift my head, and there he is.

Draven.

Standing among the competitors, tall, broad, familiar in every way that hurts to look at. His jaw tightens, his hand clenches at his side, and he feels it too. I can see it in his eyes.

The bond snaps hard between us, invisible but fierce, pulling tight like it’s trying to drag us together. His head turns sharply, scanning the crowd. His gaze moves from face to face, searching. He doesn’t see me yet, but I know he senses me. His wolf does.

The air between us feels charged and heavy. My heart pounds painfully, my body trembling from the force of it. Five years and the bond still hasn’t faded. My wolf pushes forward, desperate, stupid, and loyal. I shove her back so hard my chest aches.

I take a shaky step back, my chest burning. He’s here. My ex-mate. The one I swore I’d never see again.

And he can feel me too.

The moment Calix’s hand tightens on my shoulder, I know he’s seen Draven too.

I feel his eyes before I even turn. My chest twists, my breath catching halfway in my throat. I force my breathing to slow, even though my chest still feels like it’s on fire. I refuse to let that show. Not here. Not in front of him.

I hate that my body remembers him. I hate that my wolf rises for him like we didn’t bleed for years after he left.

I take another shaky step back, but Calix’s hand slides down, catching mine before I can move.

“Don’t,” he says quietly, his voice deep and steady beside me. “If you walk away now, it’ll look like you’re scared. Like you lost.”

I blink fast, my pulse racing. “I’m not scared,” I whisper, but my voice doesn’t sound convincing, not even to myself.

“Then stay,” he murmurs. “Let him see you. Let him see what he lost.”

His words hang in the air, low and sharp, and before I can reply, he slips his hand around my waist. My whole body stiffens, but he doesn’t let go. His touch isn’t soft, it’s firm, protective, and claiming in a way that sends a warning straight across the sand.

Draven’s gaze finally locks on us.

The second our eyes meet, it’s like everything else fades. The noise, the people, even the waves are gone. It’s just him. And me.

His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching near his temple. His chest rises and falls hard, his eyes dark and unreadable. I can see the anger boiling there, sharp and wild, and for a moment, I can almost hear his wolf growling in my head — mine.

My stomach tightens. My heart feels like it’s being ripped open again, the old wound I thought had healed suddenly bleeding fresh. I hate the confusion twisting inside me. I hate that after all these years, one look from him can still make my knees weak.

Calix pulls me closer, his hand tightening on my waist as if daring Draven to react. He leans down slightly, his lips brushing near my ear.

“Eyes up, Rhi,” he murmurs. “You don’t flinch. Not in front of him.”

I swallow hard and nod, even though my hands are trembling.

Then — a voice. Soft at first, then sharp.

“Draven.”

When I turn, the world tilts. Lauren. My best friend. Or… she used to be.

She’s standing beside him, belly round, her hand resting protectively over it. My stomach sinks, the air catching in my lungs. No. It can’t be.

Her expression shifts the moment our eyes meet — shock first, then anger, raw and blazing. She grips Draven’s arm, almost clinging to him like she’s afraid I’ll take him away. Her lips tremble, and she leans into him as if she might faint.

But Draven doesn’t even look at her. His eyes are still on me. Only me.

That look breaks me all over again.

It’s everything I used to crave and everything I can’t have. Regret. Pain. Love. Fury.

My throat tightens painfully, and I whisper, “Calix… my legs feel weak.”

He glances at me once, then back at Draven. His hand presses firmly at the small of my back. “Let’s go,” he says quietly. His tone leaves no room for argument. He turns me gently but firmly, leading me away through the crowd.

Every step feels like walking through fire. I can feel Draven’s stare burning into my back, heavy and suffocating. I glance once over my shoulder.

Lauren is still there, clutching his hand like a lifeline, her other hand rubbing her stomach as she leans her head against his shoulder, pretending to be fragile. But he’s not even looking at her. His eyes are still on me.

My breath catches as Calix’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me closer. His scent, his warmth, his steady heartbeat against my arm — it all feels like a shield, but my heart is chaos underneath.

He doesn’t speak as we head back toward our room, but I can feel his energy, protective, territorial, and cold. He’s making a claim that isn’t real, but at this moment, it feels real enough to shake the air around us.

I keep my head down, my chest heavy, my throat burning.

Draven’s eyes. Lauren’s belly. Calix’s hand on my waist.

Everything feels like it’s spinning, past and present colliding so hard I can’t breathe.

By the time Calix opens the door to our room, my legs finally give in. I lean against the wall, trying to catch my breath, trying to ignore the ache in my chest that no amount of pretending can hide.