The Biker Alpha's Obession

Chapter-3 The Morning After

Leon’s POV

It had been three months since her scent was the first thing to greet me in the morning, or the warmth of her body wrapped around mine. Three long, agonizing months of a hollow ache I never wanted to relive.

Ever again.

Now she was finally here, curled against my side like a small kitten, her soft, steady breaths fanning across my chest.

I buried my face in the crook of her shoulder and inhaled deeply. The rich, intoxicating scent of wild honey and vanilla filled my chest, flooding me with the warmth that had gone missing these past three months. But as I breathed her in, a subtle sharpness cut through the sweetness. It felt slightly different this time.

Maybe I imagined it, I thought, too starved for her touch to care.

A low rumble of satisfaction vibrated in my chest as I shifted over her, pinning her delicate frame lightly beneath my weight. My mouth trailed down the soft curve of her neck, savoring the silk of her skin as she stirred, letting out a sleepy, breathy sigh.

"You are mine, do you understand?" I whispered against her ear, my voice thick with raw desire. "I will never let you go again, Evelyn..."

My hand slid down the curve of her hip, rough fingers seeking the warm slickness between her thighs. But the second I pressed against her, a pained gasp tore from her lips.

"Stop..." she whimpered. "Please stop..."

"Why, isn't this exactly what you like?" I murmured, lips trailing heat down her neck and throat as my fingers stroked higher. "Or do you want it rough? Whatever you want, baby..."

"Stop!" she gasped out, her hands shoving desperately at my chest.

"I said stop!"

Before I could react, a sharp slap cracked across my face. The sting jerked me wide awake.

I recoiled instantly, falling back onto my heels, my chest heaving as I blinked down at the woman staring up at me. She scrambled backward toward the headboard, clutching the duvet tight against her chest. Tears welled in her eyes, her face pale, but beneath the shock, her glare burned with pure rage.

“Who is Evelyn?” she whispered, her voice shaking.

I blinked at her, my brain refusing to function properly. My vision was slightly f****d up, thanks to all the whiskey I drowned last night. But as I rubbed my eyes and shook my head, it became clearer, and I froze as we stared at each other.

Wait a minute.

This wasn’t Evelyn. Yet she was. Something short-circuited in my brain.

I stared at her, taking in every detail. At first glance, she was a mirror image of the woman I lost. She had the same soft, heart-shaped face. The same thick, dark chestnut hair, tumbling over her bare shoulders. Even the shape of her lush lips was identical.

But as the alcohol fog lifted completely, the subtle differences hit me like a physical blow.

Evelyn’s eyes had been warm, soft hazel. This girl's eyes were a deep, soft brown rimmed with brilliant gold, packed with a spark of mischief. A tiny, delicate mole sat right above her upper lip, and there was a raw, unfiltered innocence to her. She seemed younger too.

As she shifted, her scent washed over me again. It was the same rich base of wild honey and warm vanilla, but as I inhaled deeply, something else cut through—a subtle, intoxicating hint of sun-warmed earth.

What the f**k was happening? How could two people look so damn similar?

"This isn’t Evelyn," my wolf whispered, his voice trembling in complete awe. "This is our mate. We have finally found our mate."

The moment the word mate echoed through my soul, the pull hit me like a tidal wave.

A sudden, violent surge of warmth crashed through my chest, burning away every last trace of whiskey. The mate bond snapped into place with a fierce, undeniable force, sending a shockwave through my system that left me breathless.

Every nerve ending in my body reacted to her, yet my mind reeled in absolute shock.

She was someone new, chosen by the Moon Goddess specifically for me. She was my mate.

But she wasn’t the woman I loved.

Oh f*****g hell no…I don’t want this.

I knew I was supposed to say something—anything at all—as she scrambled off the bed, her hands shaking while she dressed as fast as she could. But speech had completely evaded me.

How did she even get in here? How did we end up like this?

Oh, f**k.

The memories crashed into me all at once, the missing pieces finally falling into place.

I'd gone down to the club to do what I'd done almost every night for months—get s**t-faced drunk and stop thinking. I wasn't looking to pick anyone up. I could barely function these days.

Then her scent found me.

Wild honey and vanilla.

I'd been certain it was Evelyn. For months, I had searched for that phantom scent everywhere I went, dreaming of it, hallucinating it in the dark. But last night, it was unmistakably real. I remembered following it through the crowd until I saw her dancing in the crowd.

Everything after that is still a blur.

But I knew this much…whatever happened last night, it didn't happen between me and this girl. In my alcoholic haze, it happened between me and Evelyn.

I hadn't seen her. I had only seen the ghost of the woman I was desperate to touch again.

“I don’t think you care,” the girl whispered, pulling me back to the present. “But my name is Hope Lancaster.”

Without another word or even asking who I was, she turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door shut with a thud.

Hope.

That was some cruel irony there.

"Hope," my wolf echoed inside my mind, practically purring the name. "A beautiful name for our mate."

“Shut the f**k up,” I hissed, my hands gripping the edge of the mattress until my knuckles turned white.

"Why are you fighting this?" he grumbled, his voice shifting from satisfaction to irritation. "You felt it last night. Every touch, every second of it was pure perfection. And instead of keeping her here, you let her walk out like that? You offended our mate, Leon."

“I don’t care!” I roared, my chest heaving as the anger boiled over. “Evelyn is the only woman I have ever loved, and she is the only one I will ever f*****g want. I don't want a replacement. I don't want anyone else!"

My wolf let out a harsh, bitter growl.

"Evelyn is dead, Leon!" he barked. "She's gone. You have to accept it."

A familiar, agonizing ache slammed back into my ribs, but my wolf wasn't done.

"We have wallowed in this despair for three months," he pressed, his tone sharp and relentless. "Are you really going to reject our true mate—our fated mate—for a human girl who was only ever your—"

“Don't you dare,” I snarled, cutting him off before he could finish the rest. “Don't you f*****g dare finish that sentence. You know what Evelyn was to me.”

My wolf fell quiet for a second, but his resolve didn't break.

"She was your first love, Leon. I know. But she was never our mate. Look at Hope. She looks so much like her; she carries her scent... maybe this is how the Moon Goddess has brought Evelyn back, but this time as our mate, and you're throwing it away."

“I can’t let Evelyn go,” I whispered, staring at the closed door, the silence in the room now deafening. “Not for anyone. Not even our fated mate. f**k…I need to get the f**k out of here.”

My mind was completely stuck, spinning in circles.

This wasn’t possible. How could two people look so damn similar and share almost identical scents? Every wolf had a different, unique scent. Who was this woman? As far as I knew, Evelyn was an orphan who grew up without any family. She didn’t have a sister. And Evelyn was a human. Hope was not.

I needed to get to the bottom of this. I needed to know who this Hope Lancaster—my supposed mate—actually was.

I stomped over to where my jeans lay crumpled on the floor, grabbing my phone from the pocket. I scowled at the wall of missed calls and unread messages on the screen, ignoring them all as I pulled up a contact and hit dial.

After a few rings, a familiar, hyper-enthusiastic voice bounded through the speaker.

"Yes, President!" Finn exclaimed, sounding way too energetic for this hour. "You're up weirdly early today. Did you actually drink less last night?"

I scowled at the dry sarcasm, pressing two fingers against my throbbing temple to keep my composure.

"Finn, I need you on something urgently," I commanded.

"Yes, boss," he replied, his tone immediately shifting into work mode.

"Find out everything you can about a girl named Hope Lancaster," I said, staring at the handbag she had accidentally left behind on the floor beside my clothes in her frantic rush to escape. "And ASAP."

"Huh... why? Boy, did you finally meet a girl?"

It was irritating how genuinely relieved he sounded at the mere idea.

"Not some girl," I answered, a tight lump forming in my throat as her face flashed through my mind.

"I found my mate."