ALPHA BIKER WHO CLAIMED HIS BROTHER'S MATE

30

MAYA’S POV:

I took a deep breath and let it all out. I told her about the video, the blackmail, and the vile ultimatum Jalen had given me this morning. As the words spilled out, she gave me pitiful looks momentarily. By the time I finished, my hands were shaking so hard I had to tuck them under my thighs.

Delinda’s hands remained steady on the wheel, but she gripped it tightly like she was imagining Jalen’s throat underneath her bare hands. I waited for her to speak, but she took her time, probably processing my words before she sighed.

"That absolute piece of filth," she hissed, and pounded the horn at an oncoming truck. "He really thinks he can play god just because he sits on a throne? He has no idea who he’s messing with. Anyone who messes with Rafe messes with me."

Thank the goddess, I muttered under my breath.

"So, you'll help me?" I asked in a whisper. "We have to go to the lodge, and I have to get those files before he distributes them."

"Oh, we’ll deal with Jalen," Delinda said, brushing it off like it was casual. "But first, we need a wedding dress."

I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. "A dress? Delinda, did you not hear the part about the video and the lodge? We don't have time to play dress-up like little girls."

She shook her head. "Oh, we do. Jalen can wait."

“What?”

"Listen to me, Maya," she said, glancing at me. "Jalen expects you to be a wreck. If you walk into that lodge smelling like fear and looking like a victim, he’s already won. We’re going shopping. Besides," she added, her voice softening just a fraction, "I may never get married. I want to know what it feels like to pick out a dress, even if I'm just living vicariously through you. We can pretend I'm the one getting married for an hour."

She looked back at the road, and a sad smile hung on her lips.

“Hey, do not look at me with pity or I’ll kill you,” she said, and I nodded at once. Then she let out a breath. "Seeing Jalen right now will only sour your mood and cloud your judgment. You need to remind yourself why you’re doing this. You’re marrying Rafe to survive, sure, but you're also taking back your life. Can you do that for me? Can we just be two girls looking at dresses before we go to war?"

I looked at her, seeing the person behind the formidable witch persona Rafe had described. She wasn't just a tough, badass biker-witch woman; she was a woman who had her own burdens.

"Sure," I said, a genuine smile finally touching my lips. "We can do that."

"Good," she chirped, and the air became freer. "You have to promise never to tell Rafe about this arrangement between us. Keep this between us, will you?”

"I won't tell him," I promised, and I meant it.

“Good. And I am not a pitiful woman with burdens; I am the badass biker witch you think I am.” Great, she just read my mind. “And I will stop reading it right now if you keep thinking about Rafe in that manner.”

My face went red instantly.

"Text the bastard that you will meet him by two in the afternoon. Then, let's go find something that makes you look like a queen," Delinda said, hitting the gas.

She swerved the Ferrari off the main road and toward the upscale shopping district, pulling up in front of the most exclusive bridal store in the area. Her silver boots hit the pavement with a confident thud as she hopped out, throwing the keys to a stunned valet.

"Eyes up, Maya," she called out over the roof of the car. "Time to go shopping."

I took a shaky breath, smoothing down my shirt as we approached the glass doors of the bridal store. The place screamed old money. It was the place I had shopped for my former wedding. I mean, I wasn’t present; Jalen and Tessa picked out the dress. Thinking of it now, what if they did it in the dressing room? She could have worn my wedding dress, or they could have been in the room together.

“I mean, it wouldn't be past what they could do,” Delinda said, and I frowned. “What? Your thoughts are funny, and I cannot help reading your mind.”

I rolled my eyes.

As we stepped inside, the chime of a bell announced our arrival. The air smelled of expensive lilies and floor wax. A woman stood behind a polished desk, her hair pulled back into a bun so tight it looked painful. She looked up, her gaze sweeping over Delinda’s Iron Fang jacket before it landed on me.

Her face contorted instantly, and I could tell we were far from being welcomed. To her, I wasn't a bride; I was the discarded mistress—a person that shouldn't be associated with. I had come to taint the beautiful reputation of their store.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked, her voice thin and laced with distaste. She didn't move from behind the desk.

Delinda leaned against the counter with a genuine grin on her face. "Show us the best you’ve got. We’re looking for a dress that’ll make a man’s heart stop, and we don't want the budget rack."

The woman’s lip curled. She looked at Delinda’s biker gear, then back at my tired face.

"Look... I don't want any trouble," she stammered, her voice dropping as she glanced around to see if any of the people they considered "real" customers were watching. "I have no money to give you, so please, don't take anything. I need this job. There are security cameras everywhere, and if anything goes missing, it would be on me."

The air in the room suddenly turned cold—a literal drop in temperature that made the gowns nearby flutter. Delinda didn't yell. She didn't have to. She simply reached across the desk and gripped the woman’s collar. She pulled her forward until they were nose-to-nose.

"Listen to me, you judgmental little bird," Delinda hissed, her voice vibrating with an anger that I had never seen. "My girl here is getting hitched, and she is going to look like the queen she is. You are going to get us something nice to wear—the nicest thing in this building. You will do it before I lose my patience and turn this boutique into a charcoal pit."

"Delinda," I whispered, glancing at the valet through the window. I didn't want this to escalate further.

"Not now, Maya," she snapped, not breaking eye contact with the scared clerk. "This woman thinks a biker jacket means a light wallet. She has no idea that the Iron Fang owns more of this district than her boss does."

The woman’s face went from pale to ghostly white. She looked at the grip Delinda had on her collar, then at the intensity in the witch's eyes.

“You must have heard I am the big bad witch, and I will get your dog-slobbering ass!”

"I-I... yes, of course," the clerk squeaked, her hands shaking as she gestured toward the private viewing suites in the back. "Please... follow me. We just received a handmade lace gown from the capital... it’s in the V.I.P. vault."

Delinda let go, smoothing out the woman's collar with a soft pat. “See? I knew you had good taste buried under all that judgment.” She turned to me, winking as the woman stepped out from behind the counter.

The curtains were pulled back soon, and we saw a vast range of dresses. “Ready to play, Maya?” she asked, and my face lit up with joy.

But then, my phone beeped in my purse...