ALPHA BIKER WHO CLAIMED HIS BROTHER'S MATE

6

MAYA’S POV:

The sheets were cool against my skin, but the heat between my thighs burned brutally.

Rafe was above me, and his muscular shadow blotted out the world. His large hands slid underneath my panties. He gathered my wetness with his fingers, and my hands grabbed onto his shoulder like a lifeline.

I arched my back, a broken moan escaping my throat, but he didn't let the sound go. He leaned down, capturing my mouth, swallowing the sound of my pleasure as if it belonged to him. He kissed me with so much intensity that it made my brain almost collapse.

Then, he reached for his pants and pulled them down. Just as he was about to slide into me, I jerked upright, gasping for air, my heart stuttering like a dying engine.

That was when I realized I had been dreaming. It was a s*x dream about Rafe. Goddess, could life get any worse? I asked as my eyes roamed around the dimly lit room.

The smell of s*x and sweat vanished, replaced by the acrid sting of tobacco and expensive bourbon. That was when my skin prickled with goosebumps.

“You done s*x dreaming about me, love? Or should I come back in ten minutes?”

My head snapped to the side. Rafe was leaning against the doorframe, a cigarette dangling from his lips and a glass of amber liquid in his hand. My face went from pale to a nuclear shade of crimson. I grabbed the duvet, hauling it up over my head to hide the shame burning my cheeks.

“It’s… it’s barely light out,” I muffled through the fabric, trying to steady my breathing. “Are you seriously smoking and drinking this early?”

“Keeps the voices in my head quiet and the mind sane,” he rasped. I heard his footsteps on the floor as he stepped closer. “You should pray you don’t lose your f*****g mind in this den, Maya. It’s not for the faint of heart, and this s**t is about to get worse.”

Dreaming about him was already a sign, and I didn’t need to be told otherwise.

He tapped the ash onto a tray on the nightstand. “Get dressed. The witch is here. She’s cranky, she’s expensive, and she doesn't like to wait. Move it.”

“Okay,” I muttered, waiting for the sound of his boots to retreat down the hallway before I dared to peek out.

I dressed quickly in a pair of dark jeans and a soft sweater Rafe had left for me, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. The dream had felt too real. Plus, the way my wolf had reacted to his touch—it was different, and she knew who he was. He f*****g made it clear.

“Look, we cannot fall in love with him, okay?” I said to her.

Then I shook the thoughts away and headed downstairs.

As I reached the landing, voices floated up from the living room. It was Rafe and a woman—the witch, I assumed.

“I’m telling you, Rafe, you shouldn’t be messing with whatever kind of hybrid this is,” the woman hissed. “This isn’t just a wolf with a bit of spice. Her species is dangerous, and the last kind was said to have been wiped away during the cleansing years ago. So it is either you have f*****g lost it, or there are actually hybrids roaming around—which could be even more dangerous.”

“I don’t care about the risk, Delinda,” Rafe’s voice was flat, devoid of the gravelly warmth he’d used with me earlier. “Find out what she is. I need her.”

“Why? Like you’re in love with her or something?” the woman asked with a dry, mocking laugh.

Rafe let out a low, humorless chuckle that made my stomach drop. “You must be out of your f*****g mind. I don’t love, Delinda. I f**k, and I move on. But I need her to get back at that s**t-head, fraud of a brother of mine. She’s the key to burning Jalen’s world down.”

The woman clicked her teeth.

“Last time I checked, you were the undesired black sheep, and Jalen was the responsible Alpha. You’re playing with fire.”

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll strip your membership from the club,” Rafe threatened, his voice dropping an octave.

I decided I’d heard enough. I stepped out, my expression cold.

“Am I interrupting the strategy meeting?”

The woman, Delinda, jumped slightly, her eyes widening.

“s**t, I was joking, Rafe. Don’t touch my access to the f*****g club!”

She was striking, dressed in a black leather jacket with the Iron Fang patch prominently displayed. Her hair was a wild mane of dark curls. She was sitting on the couch, leaning unnervingly close to Rafe, a cigarette of her own lit between her fingers. Seeing them together—two outlaws in their natural habitat—sent a stinging pang through my chest. Jealousy? No. It couldn't be.

“The star of the show is finally here,” Rafe said, standing up. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on the way the sweater hugged my curves.

I crossed my arms.

“I didn’t know one of your biker girlfriends was the almighty witch we were waiting for.”

Rafe’s brow arched. He took a slow step toward me, closing the distance until we were standing inches apart. I could smell the drink on his breath and the same scent from my dream.

“What’s with the attitude, love?” he asked in a low tone.

“You tell me,” I snapped, refusing to back down.

Delinda leaned back on the couch, crossing her long legs and watching us with an amused glint in her eyes.

“Are you two going to kiss or what?” she drawled, blowing a plume of smoke into the air. “Your girl is clearly jealous, Rafe. It’s pathetic and adorable all at once.”

“What?!” I shouted, the word echoing off the high ceilings. “I am not jealous!”

Rafe didn’t pull away. He leaned in even closer, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Matter of fact, I think you are.”