The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again

Prologue

Athena

I can’t breathe.

The weight of him presses me into the mattress, solid and scorching, and my lungs forget how to work the moment Tristan Blackwood moves inside me. Slow. Deliberate. Like he’s marking territory he’s always known belonged to him.

My biker Alpha.

My mistake.

My ruin.

The leather of his cut lies discarded somewhere on the floor, but the smell of him clings to the room engine oil, smoke, pine, and wolf. His hands grip my thighs like he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he lets go, lifting one leg over his hip as he pushes forward again.

I gasp, fingers clutching the sheets.

Grief hollowed me out today. Dug a pit so deep I thought I’d fall in and never climb out. And now he fills it with heat, with need, with a connection that feels too real to be happening.

Moonlight spills through the open window, silvering the planes of his body. Sweat glistens across his chest, tracing the scars he earned on roads, in fights, and battles he never speaks of. His dark hair clings to his forehead, eyes glinting faintly amber as his wolf edges closer to the surface.

This is wrong.

So utterly wrong.

We buried our parents this morning.

All four of them.

My mother and father. His mother and father. Laid to rest side by side beneath ancient oaks, as though fate itself refused to separate them, even in death. Our fathers Alphas of neighboring packs turned brothers had ruled their territories with unity, refusing to bow to old grudges.

They died together. One twisted mountain road. One mangled car. One call that shattered everything I thought permanent.

My mother held on for three days after the crash, her wolf fighting with everything she had. I held her hand when she slipped away, promising I’d be strong.

I’m not strong.

Tristan thrusts again, slower this time, dragging a sound from my throat I don’t recognize. His hand slides between us, fingers finding me with precision that makes my body betray me.

I arch into him.

I shouldn’t be here.

I should be curled up with my brother, surrounded by our pack, letting them anchor me through the bond we all share.

Instead, I’m in the bed of the Razorback MC Alpha, letting my brother’s best friend touch me like I belong to him.

“Athena,” he murmurs, voice rough, breath hot against my throat.

My name on his lips feels like a promise.

Or a curse.

I’ve wanted him for years. Since I was barely old enough to understand what wanting meant. I watched him roll into pack territory on his bike, leather vest heavy with patches, power rolling off him like thunder. I pretended not to notice how his gaze lingered on me, sharp and conflicted, as though he fought something feral inside himself.

He drives into me again, deeper, stealing my breath. I cling to him, nails digging into his shoulders, desperate for something solid, something real.

His thumb circles, and my world fractures.

The kiss that follows is brutal. Desperate. His mouth claims mine like he fears the silence that will come after. I taste grief on him. Rage. Loss.

We’re both drowning.

And instead of pulling each other to shore, we drag each other deeper.

The bed creaks as he shifts, angling me higher, harder. My vision blurs. Tears sting my eyes as pleasure and pain twist together until I can’t tell them apart.

This won’t fix anything.

I know that.

But for this stolen night, I don’t care.

He flips us. I’m straddling him now, his hands guiding my hips, eyes dark and intense, memorizing me. Every movement is deliberate, like he’s afraid of losing me again.

His mouth travels across my neck, across my collarbone, reverent. When a sound escapes me, he shushes me softly, voice a low rumble vibrating through my chest.

My wolf howls.

Mine.

The thought slams into me so hard it almost hurts.

I come apart with his name on my lips, tears streaming freely. He follows seconds later, burying his face in my neck, shuddering against me.

For a heartbeat, the world is still.

His weight pins me to the mattress, heartbeat echoing against my chest. Our scents mingle wolf and human, grief and need.

My wolf purrs, content for the first time since the accident.

This feels like home.

Then he pulls away.

The cold is immediate.

Tristan sits on the edge of the bed, back to me, shoulders rigid.

“This can’t happen again,” he says.

Final.

My chest tightens. “Tristan…”

“You’re like a sister to me.”

The sentence hits harder than any blow.

He stands, dragging on his jeans, refusing to meet my gaze. “That’s all you’ve ever been. All you’ll ever be.”

A sister.

I clutch the sheet, shaking. “Don’t say that. Not after”

“After what?” He turns, regret flashing across his face. “We made a mistake. We’re grieving. This was weakness, Athena. Nothing more.”

“That’s not true.”

“We were both hurting,” he snaps, hand through his hair. “And I took advantage of that. Your brother will kill me if he finds out.”

“Orion doesn’t have to know.”

“That’s not the point.” Jaw clenched. “I was supposed to protect you, not claim you in my bed like I had a right to you.”

Claim.

The word echoes in my head.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s done.

“Get some sleep,” he mutters, grabbing his shirt. “I’ll drive you home in the morning.”

“Tristan, please”

The door closes.

Final.

I stare at the ceiling, wolf whimpering, confused and aching. She felt the bond stir tonight. The pull. The claim.

He ran from it.

I understand now.

I was never meant to be more than Orion’s little sister. Something precious. Untouchable.

By morning, I’m gone.

I don’t wait for him.

Three days later, I book a flight across the country. I tell my brother I need space. Time.

I don’t tell him I’m running from the man who claimed me and rejected me in the same breath.

Some wounds don’t heal if you keep reopening them.

Some Alphas don’t realize what they’ve lost…

Until fate drags you back into their arms.