All Chapters of Desired By The Biker Twins Alpha: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Alder's pov The safe room felt impossibly small with Mira curled against the wall, sweat beading along her hairline, her breathing ragged between contractions that seemed to be coming faster with every passing minute, the reinforced door doing little to muffle the distant crack of gunfire still echoing somewhere out past the garden. "I can't do this here," she gasped, gripping my hand hard enough to bruise. "Alder, something's wrong. It's too soon, it's too fast." "You're doing perfectly," I said, though panic clawed desperately at my own composure. "The doctor's coming. Just hold on a little longer." "The doctor's stuck outside the perimeter," Austin's voice crackled through the radio clipped to my belt. "Lockdown protocols won't release until security confirms the estate's fully secured." "Override it," I snapped. "She's in active labor, Austin. We don't have time for protocol." "Working on it," he said grimly. "Give me two minutes." Mira cried out sharply, another contraction

Kade's pov Pacing the hallway outside the medical wing felt like its own particular kind of torture, every muffled cry from beyond that door twisting something deep and helpless in my chest, the ache in my ribs from the fight forgotten entirely against a far worse kind of pain. Austin found me there minutes later, exhaustion and lingering adrenaline etched into both our expressions. "We secured the last two hostiles," he reported. "One dead, one captured alive. He might actually give us something useful once we get him talking." "Good," I said, though my attention remained fixed on the door, straining to catch any sound that might tell me whether Mira and the baby were alright. "You should sit down," Austin said gently. "Nothing you can do out here except wear a hole through the floor." "I need to be close," I admitted. "Even if I can't be in there with her." Austin nodded slowly, understanding evident despite everything still weighing heavy on both of us. "For what it's worth,

Alder's pov The name Victor Kaine settled heavy over the following days, Austin digging desperately through decades old pack records trying to separate fact from rumor, while Mira recovered slowly, her strength returning in careful increments alongside our son's steady, healthy growth, the nursery slowly filling with the small, ordinary chaos of new parenthood even as the rest of the estate braced for whatever came next. "I found something," Austin said one evening, spreading old documents across the kitchen table while Mira nursed the baby quietly nearby, exhaustion still evident despite the joy radiating from her every time she looked at him. "What kind of something?" I asked. "Records confirming Victor Kaine's death, officially at least. Twenty three years ago, in what was ruled a territorial conflict gone wrong." Austin frowned, flipping through the yellowed pages. "But there's a gap. No confirmed body ever recovered. Just witness testimony and an assumed conclusion everyone ac

Kade's pov The mercenary's death sent Austin into a quiet, controlled fury I'd rarely witnessed from him, every member of the security staff questioned individually over the following days as he hunted for whoever had breached our own defenses so easily, his usual patience worn thin by the sheer audacity of it. "It had to be someone with clearance," he said, pacing Mira's study late one night, exhaustion evident despite his relentless focus, the same folder from weeks ago now thick with new pages. "Someone trusted enough to access the holding cells without raising suspicion." "That's a short list," I said grimly. "Shorter than I'd like," Austin agreed. "Which is exactly what worries me." Alina appeared in the doorway then, hesitant as always despite the ankle monitor no longer marking her every movement quite as heavily as before, given how thoroughly she'd proven herself these past weeks, her arms wrapped loosely around herself like she still expected to be turned away. "I might

Mira's pov Sleep became a luxury none of us could properly afford over the following days, every waking moment consumed by frantic research into Victor Kaine's history, searching desperately for any mention of a daughter buried somewhere in decades old pack records, the newborn's late night cries the only thing pulling any of us away from the endless paperwork. "Nothing conclusive yet," Austin admitted, exhaustion evident in the dark circles shadowing his eyes, the same stack of records he'd been carrying for days now dog eared and coffee stained. "Whoever she is, Kaine's kept her identity carefully hidden, same as he's kept everything else about his survival." I sat in the nursery late one night, our son finally asleep against my chest, exhaustion pulling heavy at every part of me despite the constant, restless fear refusing to fully release its grip, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only steady thing left in my world. Alina appeared quietly in the doorway, hesitating a