Bound to the Alpha Racer

Out of My Depth

The night at the Dunweiden Circuit was anything but quiet.

Even after midnight, the track buzzed with the low hum of tuned engines and the hiss of air compressors.

The scent of burnt rubber and fuel lingered in the cool air. The scene was beautiful in a strange, intimidating way, like standing in the belly of a living machine.

I took a slow, steady breath as I stepped inside the main gate. The weight of the place pressed against my chest. For people like me, this wasn’t just a racetrack; it was a world I had no business entering: The world of the rich, the fast, and the reckless.

Engines roared in the distance, echoing through the night. Each growl sent shivers through my skin.

For a moment, I forgot why I was there, mesmerized by the symphony of speed.

“Lune.”

Cassiel’s deep voice pulled me back to reality. I turned and saw him waiting near the pit lane, his leather jacket glinting under the floodlights. His tone left no room for hesitation. I followed.

He led me past the garage rows and through a blur of pit crews and machines. Everywhere I looked, people moved with purpose, checking data, adjusting tires, and yelling over the engine noise.

Then I noticed the stares. They weren’t subtle. Men turned to look at me, whispering things I couldn’t hear, but I definitely felt them.

Cassiel walked confidently toward one of the pit boxes where a group of mechanics was clustered around a sleek, black bike. The air there was heavier, charged with focus and something colder.

Then I saw Daniel.

He stood near the bike with his arms crossed, his sharp eyes tracking every movement like a hawk. When his gaze found me, I froze.

It wasn't a look of surprise; it was something far sharper, like a warning. My pulse stuttered. I shouldn’t be here.

“Everyone,” Cassiel’s voice cut through the noise. “I’d like you to meet our new technician, Lune.”

The air in the pit shifted.

Someone coughed. Another person let out a short laugh that they didn’t bother to hide. The sounds rolled through the group like static. I caught a few muttered words: "joke," "pretty face," "must be a side project."

My cheeks burned. I lowered my head and gripped the edge of my jacket as if it could make me smaller.

Daniel didn’t laugh. But his silence was worse.

His jaw clenched, and I could almost hear his thoughts clicking into place.

“Wait, Cassiel.” His tone was icy and calm. "I need a word with you."

Cassiel's brow lifted slightly. "Sure."

Before I could slip away, Cassiel’s hand found my wrist. "You, too," he said under his breath.

He dragged me into the corridor behind the pit stop. Daniel was already waiting there with his arms folded, clearly growing impatient.

"We have business here, Cassiel, real business." His voice was steady, but his eyes flashed with anger. "What the hell are you doing bringing Lune here and calling her a mechanic?"

"Because she can fix my bike."

Daniel gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "The sponsors assigned a full crew for that. Bringing her here breaks the contract. Do you even realize what kind of mess you’re walking into?"

Cassiel shrugged. “Do I even have a career left to lose, Daniel?”

“We’re trying to save it, Cass!” Daniel snapped. “So stop throwing it away! Focus on the race, and let me deal with the rest. Don't you think I've already sacrificed enough?"

Cassiel’s expression softened, almost fondly. "You've done more than enough. But this is my choice.”

“Cassiel, don’t—”

“Lune stays. She’s part of the team now. She just needs guidance.”

Daniel’s gaze cut toward me again. Cold. Assessing. The silence stretched until it became unbearable.

Then he exhaled sharply. “Fine. Do whatever you want."

Cassiel smiled faintly. "Thanks. Oh, and she’s staying with us, too. She needs a place to live.”

Daniel froze mid-step, then shook his head and laughed bitterly. "You never make things easy, do you?" He walked off, muttering curses under his breath.

I bit my lip. "Cassiel, I didn't mean for you to get in trouble because of me—"

“Trouble?” He flashed that careless grin again. "If he didn't stop me, it means he agreed."

"Mr. Daniel looked ready to explode!"

“He didn’t say no.”

I wanted to argue, but the confidence in his tone silenced me.

“So, everything okay?” Cassiel smiled at me.

"I shouldn't be here, Cassiel. Maybe I can just help at the villa. I’ll do anything.”

He chuckled softly. "What for? I won't be here long. Only a month or so. Keeping you here would be a waste.”

"A month? But aren't you in the Dunweiden Cup? Isn’t that a full season?”

He shook his head. "This is just preseason—testing the bikes, tuning the engines, and collecting data. It’s not about trophies yet. It’s about control.”

I frowned. "And you want me as your mechanic? I don't know anything about MotoGP. They’re already laughing at me.”

Cassiel chuckled. "They'll stop when you prove them wrong. One month is enough time to learn the basics.”

"You're insane," I whispered.

"Maybe. But I want you to have something that’s yours, Lune. Even if I’m not around someday.”

That last part stung. Cassiel's words held a weight that didn't match his grin.

"Don't say that," I murmured.

He only smiled, then reached for my hand. “Don’t be afraid, Lune. I’m here.”

My heart fluttered despite myself as he led me back toward the pit. The noise returned—engines revving, metal clanking, and shouts echoing. I could feel the stares again as we entered.

I kept close to the wall, trying not to draw attention. The other mechanics didn’t bother hiding their disdain now. They watched me with smirks and rolling eyes, whispering things that made my skin crawl.

Cassiel straddled his bike, preparing for a warm-up lap. He looked utterly in his element—wild, fearless, and beautiful.

Then, a voice called out behind me.

“Hey, miss!”

I turned around and saw the chief mechanic. He was a burly man with grease-stained hands and eyes that gleamed with condescension.

"Yes?" I replied, my voice smaller than I would have liked.

He leaned closer, lowering his voice but not his contempt. "Go home. You don’t belong here. Guys like Cassiel—” he gave a cruel smirk, “just like picking up pretty locals to play with between races. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is real. You’ll just end up getting hurt.”

I froze. My throat closed up. Laughter rippled from the others nearby—low and mocking, like the sound of wolves circling prey.

I wanted to vanish. To run. But my legs wouldn’t move.

Cassiel’s bike roared to life, and everyone turned toward the track as he took off, leaving me standing there amid the noise and sting of their laughter.

When I forced myself to look up again, I saw Daniel across the pit lane.

He wasn’t laughing. In fact, he wasn’t even watching the track.

He was staring at me.

For the first time that night, his expression wasn’t cold; it was uneasy.

It was as if he knew something I didn’t.

Like he had already seen the disaster that was about to come.