ALPHA BIKER WHO CLAIMED HIS BROTHER'S MATE

35

RAFE’S POV

The sound of my bike’s engine was the only thing loud enough to drown out the murderous thoughts in my head. I didn't wait for her, because if I had stayed in that room for one more second, looking at Jalen’s pathetic, unconscious body, I would have finished him off.

The image of her in that raggedy-ass motel made my vision go red. A motel. She went to a literal slum to meet a man who has done nothing but devalue her since the day they met.

The wind whipped against my face as I pushed the bike to its limit, weaving through traffic with recklessness. I was well past the point of caring. I hated how much I cared about her and obsessed over her. My blood was boiling. If Delinda hadn’t been there... if I hadn't pushed Delinda to follow her...

I gripped the handles until my knuckles almost popped. I might have walked in on her on that bed, f*****g him. She could have let him touch her. The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through my system. She chose to trust Jalen’s deal over my protection. She didn’t trust me to keep her safe, and the insult cut right through my chest.

I drifted into the gravel parking lot of The Iron Den, the grittiest bar in the Iron Fang MC territory. I shut the bike off and kicked the kickstand down. Then, I got off and stormed toward the bar. The smell of beer and cheap tobacco hit me, but I welcomed it. It matched my mood perfectly—something to drown out the thoughts of a woman who could never love or trust me.

I slammed my hand onto the scarred wooden counter, the vibration silencing a few nearby conversations.

"Give me something strong," I demanded, not even looking at the man behind the bar. "The strongest s**t you’ve got. Don't dilute it."

The bartender, an older guy with a scarred lip who’d been serving the MC since I was a pup, pulled a bottle from the bottom shelf. He poured a glass, but he couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his face.

"Easy there, Alpha Rafe," he chuckled, sliding the glass toward me. "You must be going through a lot with the marriage preps. They say the weeks before the wedding are the hardest on a man's liver."

I caught the glass mid-slide, my grip tightening until it creaked. I looked up at him, my eyes dark with a coldness that made his smirk vanish instantly.

"You have a wife and a kid back home, don't you, Bill?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

The man blinked, his throat bobbing as he took a half-step back. "Yeah... yeah, I do. You know that, Rafe."

I downed the liquid in one burning gulp, feeling the fire slide down my throat, but it did nothing to cool the rage in my gut. I leaned over the bar, my shadow looming over him.

"Then if you love them," I hissed, "you’ll keep your mouth shut and keep pouring."

“Yes, Alpha,” he muttered, then he took my glass.

On a normal day, I would not be cold to this man. He was a lovely guy, but he should learn to read the f*****g room sometimes.

MAYA’S POV

The ride back was suffocating. Delinda and I didn't speak a word until the Ferrari pulled into the long driveway of Rafe’s house. I looked at the spot where Rafe usually parked his bike, but it was empty. My heart sank. I had hoped he’d be here, waiting to yell at me some more—anything was better than this cold, empty silence.

I turned to Delinda as she killed the engine. "I know I f****d up," I whispered, my voice thick with guilt. "And I’m sorry for the things I said to you in that room. You didn't deserve that. Especially after... after you covered for me. Thank you for not telling him about what really happened."

Delinda sighed, leaning her head back against the leather seat. "No sweat, Maya. I get it. Adrenaline and terror do weird things to the brain." She glanced at me, her expression softening. "He’ll come around. He’s just a bit upset. Actually, he’s probably furious because he cares. You can still fix this. You just need to do something to get back into his good books."

"Like what?" I asked desperately. "He won't even look at me."

Delinda leaned in, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "Well, this is a bit naughty... and don't you dare tell him I told you this. I saw it in his diary one time when I was being a nosy best friend. So, no, I didn't discuss any weird s*x thing with him.”

I blinked. "Rafe has a diary?"

"More like a journal of... dark thoughts," she corrected with a shrug. "The man is freaky, Maya. He wrote about things he’d want to do to his partner to make her anger fade in a moment. High-intensity stuff. I figure if that’s what he thinks a partner needs, it’ll work on him too, because it’s clearly what he craves."

I sat in the house alone for the rest of the evening, Delinda's words looping in my head. The sun went down, and the shadows in the living room grew long, but Rafe didn't return. Every time a car passed in the distance, my pulse spiked, only to drop when the sound faded away.

I was curled up on the couch, drifting into a light, restless sleep, when the distant, low thrum of a motorcycle engine jolted me awake. I sat up instantly, my heart hammering against my ribs.

A moment later, the front door opened. Rafe walked in, his movements heavy and slow. Even from across the room, I could smell the faint, sharp tang of hard alcohol clinging to his leather jacket.

"Hi," I said softly in a small voice.

He paused, his hand still on the doorknob. He didn't look over at me. "Shouldn't you be asleep, Maya?"

"Yes," I admitted, standing up and taking a tentative step toward him. "But I couldn't sleep not knowing if you were okay."

"I'm fine," he said shortly, finally turning to head toward the stairs. "Go to bed."

"Rafe, wait." I moved quicker, intercepting him at the base of the staircase. "I am so sorry about today. I swear to you, I would have never let Jalen touch me. I was just trying to get that drive, to protect us..."

"It's fine, Maya," he said, his tone dismissive and cold. It hurt worse than if he had screamed. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigar and a lighter.

Before he could flick the flame, I reached out and grabbed his hand. His skin was ice-cold.

"I know you're angry," I whispered, looking up into his dark, bloodshot eyes. "And I want to show you how sorry I am. I’ll let you... I'll let you punish me, Rafe. However you want."

Rafe let out a dark, dry chuckle that sent a shiver down my spine. He looked down at me, his gaze scanning my face with a weird intensity. "You aren't cut out for such things, Maya. You don't know what you're asking for."

I didn't back down. Instead, I let my hand drop from his wrist, sliding it down his chest until I pressed my palm firmly against the front of his jeans. I felt his c**k twitch beneath my touch, and I swallowed hard when I realized he was already hard. Did I affect him this much? I asked myself.

I got bold, cupping him through the fabric, feeling his size. "But you’re already hard just hearing it," I challenged, my voice dropping to a sultry murmur. "You want me, Rafe. So... punish me."