The Biker Alpha’s Hated Mate

Aveline

The scent of oil, sweat, and rust was oddly comforting. In a world full of people wearing masks, at least my mechanic shop was honest. Machines didn’t lie. They just broke—and I knew how to fix them.

I wiped the back of my hand across my cheek, leaving a streak of black grease behind. The engine I was working on whined to life for the first time in weeks, and I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile.

“Good girl,” I muttered to the bike as the rumble settled into a steady purr.

That peace didn’t last long.

The chime above the garage door jingled. I didn’t have to look up. I knew that heavy, impatient gait. The faint scent of stale cigar smoke and cheap leather.

Clyde Braxley.

And if trouble had a face, it’d wear that ugly scar that ran from his temple to his lip.

I exhaled slowly and stood, using a rag to clean my hands while forcing myself to look calm.

“Clyde,” I greeted with a tight smile. “Didn’t expect you this early.”

He didn’t answer right away. He took his sweet time walking toward me, boots echoing across the concrete floor, eyes scanning the shop like he owned it.

Technically, he didn’t. But the money I borrowed from him said otherwise.

“You’re late, Avi,” he said, voice rough like a worn-out muffler. “Two weeks past due.”

I swallowed. “I know. I’m trying. Business has been slow—”

He stepped in, too close. I tensed.

“That’s not my problem,” he snapped. “You think I’m running a damn charity? I gave you two months. You’ve had three.”

“Please,” I said, lowering my voice. “I just need a little more time. I can get you part of it now and the rest in—”

Clyde’s hand slammed against the metal shelf beside me, rattling it so hard a wrench clattered to the floor. I flinched.

“Do I look like I care?” His breath was foul. “You think you can sweet-talk your way out of this again? You’re not as cute as you think, sweetheart.”

I clenched the rag in my fist. “I’m not trying to cheat you, I swear.”

He scoffed and backed off, but only a step. “You’ve got one week. If I don’t have the money by then… I’ll make sure you’re crawling on your knees to beg for forgiveness.”

He turned, and as he reached the door, he paused.

“No more extensions, Carrington. I’ll collect one way or another.”

Then he was gone, and the door slammed shut behind him with a metallic thud.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and leaned back against the workbench, hands trembling slightly. I hated this—being cornered, powerless, and constantly on edge.

A few seconds later, the back door creaked open, followed by the sound of heavy boots and a familiar voice.

“Avi? You in here?”

I didn’t have to look. Briar James had a voice like gravel and fire, and a presence that could set a room alight. She stepped into the garage, wiping sweat from her forehead, her black tank top clinging to her toned frame.

She paused when she saw me.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly. “Just what I needed to hear.”

She narrowed her eyes and tossed her bag onto the counter. “What happened?”

I hesitated. But the concern on her face made me cave.

“Clyde was here. He’s breathing down my neck about the payment. Threatened to make my life hell.”

Briar’s jaw clenched. “That slimy bastard. I told you not to take money from him.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I said. “My truck broke down, the rent was late, and I had to eat, remember?”

She crossed her arms. “Then let me beat his ass for you. Just once. I won’t even leave a mark anyone can trace.”

I cracked a small smile despite myself. “Tempting. But no. I don’t need more heat.”

Her expression didn’t soften. If anything, it darkened. “You’ve been off radar for years, Avi. No one’s supposed to know you’re here. I cast the concealment myself.”

“I know,” I said, shrugging. “Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”

Briar rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and I’m a vegetarian.”

Before I could respond, a sharp sound cracked through the air—a howl. It wasn’t close, but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine.

We both froze.

Another howl followed, closer this time. Angry. Hunting.

“Tell me that wasn’t what I think it was,” I whispered.

Briar didn’t answer immediately. Her expression turned deadly serious. “Wolves.”

“No one’s supposed to know we’re here,” I repeated, but this time my voice wavered.

“They shouldn’t,” she said. “I used a blood-bound concealment. Masked your scent completely.”

A snarl echoed from the trees beyond the shop. This one wasn’t distant.

“Then how—” I began.

“I don’t know,” she cut in. “But we need to move. Now.”

We bolted toward the back room where Briar had already packed emergency bags—just in case. We’d done this drill before, but never for real. Until now.

The wind shifted and my stomach dropped. I smelled fur. Blood. And smoke.

“They’re here,” I breathed. My voice was no louder than a whisper.

Briar tossed me a black leather satchel and shoved a small blade into my boot. “You know how to use that?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

We slipped out the rear exit, creeping along the tree line behind the garage. The forest loomed, dark and full of secrets. It wasn’t safe—but neither was staying.

Briar paused just as we reached the edge. “Avi…”

“What?”

She looked at me, her jaw tight. “This isn’t random. Someone sold you out.”

Her words hit harder than any slap.

I nodded, forcing down the fear building in my throat. “Let’s go.”

And together, we disappeared into the woods—two shadows running from monsters.

But little did I know… my biggest fear of hunting me was coming true.

Branches clawed at my arms as we ran, the trees closing in around us like they wanted to keep us trapped. I tried not to think about the sound of paws slamming the forest floor behind us, or the breath that ghosted my neck as if something was too close, too fast, too real.

Briar grabbed my arm and yanked me down behind a fallen log just as a large, black-furred wolf lunged past our hiding place, its growl vibrating the earth.

I pressed my hand over my mouth, heart slamming in my chest like it wanted out. Briar didn’t blink. Her eyes burned bright with fury and focus.

“That’s not a rogue,” she whispered. “That’s a trained enforcer.”

I froze. “You mean pack?”

She nodded grimly. “Not just pack. Military. Someone high up sent them. Someone with power.”

I closed my eyes for a second. “Then this isn’t just about Clyde. This is personal.”

A moment passed. Briar turned to me, her voice barely audible over the rustling wind.

“They’re not here to collect a debt, Avi. They’re here to claim you.”

The hair on my arms stood. And in the distance, another howl broke the sky—one that felt less like a threat… and more like a warning.