The Bikers' Luna: Four Alphas Claim Me in Ifni

The smell of sardines and sea salt never left my skin, no matter how hard I scrubbed. My name is Layla. I'm 21 years old, and I sell fish at the port of Sidi Ifni, Morocco. My hands are rough, my dress is cheap, and my hair is white as the foam on the Legzira arches. Everyone in town calls me the little fish girl. Poor, ordinary, cursed with white hair. If only they knew the truth. Tonight, the ocean is not normal. The waves crash like thunder against the cliffs. The full moon is huge, red like blood, hanging low over the Atlantic. And my body... my body is on fire. It started three days ago. A heat deep in my belly, an ache between my legs I have never felt before. My white hair started to glow in the dark. I can hear voices in the wind, speaking a language I don't know but I understand. Luna. White Wolf. Mate. I am hiding in my small house, sweating, shaking, trying to cool myself with sea water. Then I hear them. Four motorcycles. The roar is so loud it shakes the sand. Not the small mopeds of Ifni. These are big, American beasts. They stop right in front of my house. I know it before I even look. Wolves. I peek through the curtain. Four men. No, not men. Alphas. They are huge, all leather and muscle and tattoos. Their eyes glow gold in the moonlight, even from far away. The leader takes off his helmet. Black hair, scar through his eyebrow, a face so handsome it hurts. He looks directly at my window, as if he can see me. He inhales. And he smiles. A terrifying, hungry smile that shows his fangs. "Found you, little fish," he whispers, but I hear it as if he is next to me. My door explodes open. It doesn't open, it breaks. He is inside in one second. Too fast to be human. "Who are you! Get out!" I scream, grabbing my rusty fish knife. He doesn't stop. He walks to me slowly, like a predator playing with prey. He is at least 6'5, towering over me. His leather jacket smells like pine forest, smoke, and male power. "Put that little knife down, Luna. You will hurt yourself." "Don't call me that! My name is Layla! I am a fish seller!" He laughs, a dark sound. "You are Layla, the last White Wolf of Ifni. The prophecy was true. White hair, selling fish in a cursed town, 21 years old. We have searched ten years for you." His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist. The second his skin touches mine, a shock, a fire, explodes through my whole body. I gasp and drop the knife. The heat pain between my legs... it stops. For the first time in three days, I can breathe. "What... what did you do to me?" I whisper. He pulls me against his hard chest. "I am Kael. Alpha of the Northern Pack. And you, little white wolf, are in your first heat. And you are our mate." "Ours?" My voice is shaking. I try to push him away but my body betrays me, melting against him. Three more men enter my house now, filling my tiny kitchen. One with fire-red hair and a beard, eyes like amber. One with long silver hair, cold and beautiful like ice. One young, with tattoos on his neck and a lip piercing, smiling like a devil