Akira Bike Irl Novels & Stories

“An order?” “From the Luna,” he repeats. “I’m fine.” “It’s an order,” he says again, this time with finality. “Besides, you don’t have your bike with you. You can ride behind me on mine.” “How did you know I don’t have my bike?” “I’m not a stalker, Kira. There weren’t any others in the parking spaces, chill out.” The chill of my headache instantly recedes. “What? No, no I’ll walk.”

Before I could finish my words, a Wrangler rushed against the dust, following the motorbike that caught my attention. “What the hell are they doing?” Kailin asked almost annoyingly. The man driving the motorbike wasn’t even wearing a helmet. He didn’t even slow down as he got closer, and so did the Wrangler. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kailin yelled behind me as we watched the man do a sharp brake and get off of his bike before it landed on the ground. A man who was ridiculously tall with broad shoulders and tousled dark hair. His thick dark brows met together as if he was pissed off with something. His sharp jaw looked like it hadn’t been acquainted with a razor for days.

My ribs screamed with every breath—courtesy of Derek's boots three nights ago in that motel parking lot outside Tucson. "You cannot run forever, Jenna," he had said, his voice cold as winter. "I will find you again." But I had run. Again. A rumble split the air. Deep. Mechanical. The kind that made your bones vibrate. I lifted my head and saw them. Six motorcycles rolling down Main Street like they owned it. Leather. Chrome. The devil's head patch on their backs—red eyes, fangs bared. Devil's Reign MC. My blood turned to ice.

I quickly located the voice message from Kierra when my mother said something that caught my attention. “What did you just say?” Her eyes widened at my stern tone. “E-excuse me?” “What did you just say?” I repeated. “I said I found it odd that Kierra was more concerned about that silly bike than herself.” “The bike…what condition was the bike in?” “It was in pieces on the highway. I’m no mechanic, but I don’t believe it’s salvageable.” “That motorcycle wasn’t a silly bike, and I would appreciate it if you would refrain from calling it such,” I said through clenched teeth.

Akira whispered a sharp incantation — words I didn’t recognize but felt down to the marrow of my bones. The mist recoiled. The figures howled in rage, shrinking, twisting. Another wave came — stronger, meaner. They clawed at the edges of reality, trying to force fear into our hearts. Akira stood, her hand flashing as she pulled a small silver talisman from under her jacket — a charm etched with runes I knew were old, older than Raven’s Peak itself. The moment she held it aloft, the symbols lit up — soft and silver like moonlight trapped in stone.

His deep forest scent invades my nose, and I feel myself drown in him, in everything that is Kai. “So, what is this beast called?” I ask, meaning the motorcycle. “Kawasaki Ninja H2 SX, luckily this one is street legal. I knew I would get you today, so I chose this one.” He says and moves to start the bike, but I place my hand on his arm. “Street legal? What does that mean?” I ask, too afraid to know, but he lets out a chuckle as the beast growls to life. “You’ll see,” is all that he promised before we sped away.

I stated as I put the bike and gear and peeled the tires out of the parking lot. Zydan hadn’t been holding onto me when I left the parking spot, but his arms quickly came around my waist. Breaking every traffic law, I raced to the airport, where I had a few jets stored. Between my identity as Accalia and Akira, I had connections to every airport in the world. It was a bit of a drive, but with my motorcycle's speed, we arrived in a quarter of the time it should have taken us. When I parked my bike at the airport, I called Silica.

In a single look, one would instantaneously wonder why Akira was in any way associated with this person. “Really? Windows down in Manila while wearing that?” Akira flashed a grin and took one last hit at the cigarette between her fingers, before throwing it on the asphalt and putting the light out with the sole of her boot. “It’s fine, I have a gun in the glove compartment,” she stated plainly and pocketed her keys after closing her car windows. “Kidding.” Akira scoffed in response and shook her head. “But I do have a baseball bat under the shotgun seat.”

Ditto buddy! “What? You can fly over the river as a wolf?” I shot. “Almost, I am one of the fastest wolves in Astoria,” Kent said. Not bragging but just like it was a fact. “Why don’t you transform and I hop on your back? I can hold on pretty tight.” I suggested. Kent turned to me slowly. He looked beyond angry. “How dare you!” “What?” I asked, confused. “How dare you ask an Alpha to be your mule? I have never, will never, let anyone ride my back.” He explained further.

"Whatever are you talking about, Akira?" Akira's eyes blazed with anger. "Don't play dumb, Keiran. I will find proof. And I'm going to expose you to the pack." "I think you'll find that your threat of getting proof is...lacking," I said, a smirk spreading across my face. Akira's eyes narrowed, and for a moment her composure faltered. "What do you mean?" I shrugged, my shoulders. "Let's just say that we have...friends who are willing to vouch for us."