Rafe’s POV
Engines roared as we cut through the streets, leather and chrome burning through the night. The suits from the bar thought they’d slipped us, but their scent still lingered - cheap whiskey, sweat, and desperation - like a rotten trail begging to be followed.
“Got ‘em,” Maddox’s voice hit the mind link, sharp with excitement. “East. Toward the docks.”
I opened the throttle, the bike surging forward. The growl of the engine harmonized with the growl of my wolf. The bastards led us straight out of the city, past the warehouses, past the dead factories, until salt and oil bit the air.
Headlights cut across the dockyard, and there they were - slipping between shipping containers, looking over their shoulders. Only they weren’t alone.
We skidded to a stop, gravel spitting under o
