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The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again
The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again
Author: Stephanie

Chapter one

Author: Stephanie
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-13 22:27:44

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.

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  • The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again   Chapter Forty-One

    The silence after a fight was never empty. It was crowded with things that hadn’t finished happening yet.The warehouse still smelled like burnt rubber and gunpowder, sharp and bitter in the back of my throat. My ears rang faintly, the echo of gunfire refusing to let go. Around us, the crew moved with practiced efficiency hold checking pulses, securing weapons, dragging bodies out of sight. No one celebrated. No one relaxed.Because everyone knew the same thing I did.This wasn’t an ending. It was a warning shot.He stayed close to me as we moved, not hovering, not caging just present. A constant awareness at my side, like gravity. His hand brushed my lower back once, brief and grounding, before he stepped away to give orders. Clear. Precise. Alpha through and through.But different.The men listened to him the way they always had. What changed was how they looked at me.Not curiosity. Not suspicion.Calculation.Respect.We regrouped in a secondary safehouse less than an hour later a

  • The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again   Chapter forty

    Morning didn’t arrive so much as it crept in thin light leaking through broken panes, dust motes floating like they had nowhere else to be. I’d slept, technically. But my mind never shut down. It paced all night, counting exits, replaying the voice on that phone, dissecting every word like it was a threat written in code.You’re the catalyst.I sat up slowly, listening. The plant had its own rhythm now boots on concrete, the murmur of low voices, metal clinking softly as weapons were checked and rechecked. No panic. No chaos. Just readiness.He was already awake. Of course he was.I found him near the central map table, sleeves rolled up, ink smudged on his forearm where he’d been marking routes. He looked up when he sensed me, not surprised, just… aware. Like he always knew where I was, even when he wasn’t looking.“You didn’t sleep,” he said.“I slept enough.”A lie. We both knew it. He didn’t call me on it.Mara was there too, leaning against a pillar, arms crossed. Her gaze flicke

  • The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again   Chapter Thirty-Nine

    The first shot didn’t come with sound.It came with instinct.I felt it before I heard it the sharp pull in my gut, the sudden shift in the air like the world had taken a breath and forgotten to let it out. He moved at the same time I did, his hand catching my arm, dragging me down just as glass exploded somewhere above us.Then the sound hit.Gunfire ripped through the compound, loud and merciless, tearing apart the fragile quiet we’d been pretending was peace. Shouts erupted. Boots thundered against concrete. Engines roared to life, not in celebration this time, but in war.“Inside. Now,” he barked.I didn’t argue. I ran.We moved through the hallways like we’d practiced it a hundred times, even though we never had. Muscle memory built from survival kicked in. He shoved me into the reinforced room at the back of the compound, slamming the door shut behind us just as another shot cracked outside.My heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest.“They found us,” I said.“No,” he r

  • The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again   Chapter Thirty-Eight

    Morning came slower than usual.Not because the sun hesitated, but because I did.I lay awake long before the compound stirred, listening to the rhythm of his breathing beside me. Deep. Steady. The kind of calm that only came after choosing something hard and refusing to regret it.The storm had passed sometime in the night. Rain still clung to the windows, tracing lazy paths downward like it hadn’t quite let go. My body felt heavy in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion. It was the weight of certainty settling in.This wasn’t a moment anymore.It was a line crossed.I shifted slightly, testing the space. His arm tightened around my waist instantly, instinctive, possessive without being cruel.“You trying to disappear?” he murmured, eyes still closed.I smiled despite myself. “Just checking if this was real.”His eyes opened then, sharp even in the dim light. “It is.”Good. Terrifying. Good.The compound woke in stages. Doors opening. Boots hitting concrete. Engines coughing t

  • The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again   Chapter Thirty-Seven

    Morning didn’t ask permission.It arrived with the low rumble of engines and the smell of wet earth, the storm having scrubbed the compound raw overnight. I woke to gray light leaking through the curtains and the steady, reassuring weight of an arm around my waist. For a moment, I stayed still, testing the reality of it. Testing us.He was awake too. I knew because his thumb moved in a slow, absent circle against my skin, like he was grounding himself the same way I was.No rushing. No pretending.Just the quiet acknowledgment of what we’d chosen.“You’re staring,” he said.“I’m confirming you’re real.”A huff of amusement left him. “Disappointing verdict?”“Not yet.”He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, studying me with that focused intensity that used to make me feel like prey. This morning, it felt different. Not ownership. Awareness.“Council’s going to notice,” he said.“They notice everything.”“Not this.” His mouth tipped slightly. “This is going to drive them insane.”

  • The Biker Alpha Who Claimed Me Again   Chapter Thirty-Six

    The first thing I learned about peace was that it never arrived quietly. It didn’t slip in through open doors or announce itself with relief. It came disguised as routine. As repetition. As the slow, uncomfortable realization that nothing was chasing us anymore—and that somehow felt worse. The compound was awake before the sun. It always was. Engines growled low in the yard as men tuned bikes and argued over nothing important. Coffee brewed strong and bitter in the kitchen. Someone laughed too loudly, the sound bouncing off concrete walls that had heard far worse things. Life kept moving. I stood on the porch, arms wrapped around myself, watching the sky lighten inch by inch. Gray bleeding into pale blue. Another day claimed. Another day survived. “You’re up early.” His voice came from behind me, rough with sleep. I didn’t turn right away. I didn’t need to. I knew the weight of him, the way the air shifted when he stepped close. “Couldn’t sleep,” I said. “Neither could I.” T

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