THE ALPHA BIKER'S QUEEN
“And I will never accept it.”
Something stabs deep in my chest, sharper than I expect. I cover it with a scoff. “Join the club. I’ll even get us matching jackets.. Team Hatred.”
His eyes flash, a storm raging there, but before either of us can say something we’ll regret or, worse, something true, a branch snaps nearby.
We spin in unison, instincts sharpening. The scent hits me first: acrid, metallic. Hunters.
Of course. Because what’s better than a midnight bond spat? Throw in some humans with UV rounds. Perfect.
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