The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 132

I woke up feeling like I'd been run over by a truck. My whole body ached in ways I didn't know were possible, and when I tried to move, every muscle protested.

The sunlight was streaming through the window, way too bright for how I was feeling.

I felt Tristan shift beside me, and then his lips pressed against my forehead, soft and gentle.

"Did I hurt you last night?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

I turned to look at him, seeing the worry in his eyes, and I shook my head. "No," I said, my voice coming out rougher than I expected. "You didn't hurt me."

He studied my face for a moment, like he was trying to see if I was telling the truth, and then he sighed. "As much as I enjoyed last night," he said slowly, "I don't think I'd do it again."

I felt my stomach drop a little. "What do you mean?"

"You deserve better," he said, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "You should be treated like a queen, not like that."

I wanted to protest, to tell him that I enjoyed it too, that he didn't need to feel guilty about it, but before I could get the words out, he leaned down and kissed me.

The kiss was different from last night, softer and sweeter, and it made my chest feel tight.

When he pulled back, he didn't give me a chance to argue. He just scooped me up in his arms like I weighed nothing and carried me toward the bathroom.

"Tristan," I said, laughing a little despite myself, "I can walk."

"I know," he said, pushing the bathroom door open with his shoulder. "But I want to take care of you."

He set me down gently in the shower, turning on the water and testing the temperature before guiding me under the spray.

The warm water felt amazing on my sore muscles, and I let out a small sigh of relief.

Tristan grabbed the soap and started washing me, his hands gentle as they moved over my skin.

It was intimate in a completely different way than last night, and I found myself relaxing under his touch.

He washed my hair too, his fingers massaging my scalp, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of being taken care of.

When we were done, he wrapped me in a towel and dried me off before leading me back to the bedroom.

I expected him to hand me my clothes, but instead, he walked over to the closet and pulled out a black dress I'd never seen before.

"Where did that come from?" I asked, surprised.

He gave me a small smile. "I have my ways."

I looked at the dress, then back at him. "When did you even have time to get this?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, bringing it over to me. "Just put it on."

I took the dress from him, running my fingers over the fabric. It was simple but elegant, and I could tell it was expensive.

As I started getting dressed, I noticed that he was putting on black clothes too, a black shirt and black jeans.

"What's the occasion?" I asked, pulling the dress over my head.

He looked at me, his expression serious. "We're ending it all," he said. "So you'll be able to finally move on."

I stopped moving, my hands frozen on the zipper of the dress.

I already understood what he meant, what we were going to do.

The bodies. Seraphine and Daxon. We were going to burn them.

"Okay," I said quietly, finishing with the zipper.

Tristan came over and helped me with my hair, brushing it out gently before pulling it back into a simple style.

When we were both ready, he took my hand and led me out of the house.

Tristan had taken the car, which surprised me but I didn't ask. Knew he might have his reasons.

The drive to Tristan's pack territory was quiet, and I spent most of it staring out the window, thinking about everything that had happened.

Seraphine and Daxon were dead because of their choices, because they'd chosen to side with evil instead of protecting their own.

They let selfishness and greed blind them.

I should have felt more, I thought. Sadness, maybe, or regret. But all I felt was tiredness and ready for this to be over.

When we arrived, there were already people gathered. I could see Orion standing with Sarah, his arm around her shoulders, and Derek was there too, standing off to the side with his arms crossed.

The pack members had formed a circle around a pile of wood that had been arranged in the center of the clearing.

Two bodies lay on top of the wood, wrapped in white cloth.

My stomach twisted when I saw them, and I had to look away for a moment.

Tristan squeezed my hand. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

I nodded, even though I wasn't sure if I was.

We walked toward the gathering, and people moved aside to let us through.

I could feel their eyes on me, some sympathetic, some curious, and I kept my head up, refusing to show any weakness.

Tristan led me to the front of the circle, and I stood there, staring at the two bodies on the wood.

Seraphine was never my friend. But she was Jess's and Sarah's friend. I didn't feel anything for her but my heart bleeds for Tristan and Serah who'd trusted her not knowing she was evil.

But Daxon was once my mate. Someone I'd loved and trusted, but didn't know he was also evil and a monster.

I didn't know he was among the people who had taken the ones we loved the most.

Tristan let go of my hand and stepped forward, his presence commanding as he addressed the pack.

"This is what happens to anyone who betrays their own," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "And anyone who thinks they can stand against us should try and see how it'll end for them."

His words were harsh, but they needed to be. The pack needed to understand that betrayal wouldn't be tolerated, that there were consequences for siding with evil.

"We're werewolves," Tristan continued. "We're supposed to protect each other, not side with those who want to destroy us. We can't let hate and strife live in us. We can't go to great lengths for what's not meant for us or who isn't meant for us."

As he spoke, I watched him with pride. He was a good leader, strong and fair, and he knew how to bring people together.

I found myself admiring him, the way he stood tall and confident, the way his words made sense and carried weight.

And then, suddenly, I felt it. A wave of heat that started in my stomach and spread through my entire body.

What the hell?

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to shake off the feeling, but it only got stronger.

My skin felt too tight, too warm, and I couldn't stop thinking about last night, about Tristan's hands on me, his body against mine.

I couldn't wait to get home, to be alone with him again, to continue where we'd left off.

The thought surprised me, and I felt my cheeks heat up.

What is wrong with me?

This wasn't the time or place to be thinking about that. We were here to say goodbye to the dead, to bring closure to everything that had happened.

But my body didn't seem to care. It wanted Tristan, and it wanted him now.

I tried to focus on what he was saying, on the ceremony, but the heat kept building, and I found myself pressing my thighs together, trying to find some relief.

Tristan finished his speech and turned to look at me, extending his hand.

"Come," he said.

I moved toward him, my legs feeling shaky as I walked.

When I reached him, he handed me a lit torch, the flames dancing in the breeze.

"Place it," he said softly.

I looked down at the torch in my hand, then at the bodies on the wood.

This was it. The final goodbye.

I stepped forward and lowered the torch to the wood, watching as the flames caught and spread.

Tristan placed his torch on the other side, and together we stepped back, watching as the fire grew.

The pack stood in silence as the flames consumed the bodies, the wood crackling and popping.

I stood next to Tristan, feeling the heat of the fire on my face, and tried to process what I was feeling.

Relief, yes. Sadness, a little. But mostly, I just felt empty, like a chapter of my life was burning away with those bodies.

Now they were both gone, and I could finally move forward.

The fire burned hot and bright, and I watched as the bodies turned to ash, the white cloth disappearing first, then the flesh and bone.

It was brutal to watch, but it was necessary.

This was how werewolves handled their dead, how we said goodbye to those who had betrayed us.

I made a mental note to ask Tristan If it was okay to burn Daxon's body, since he wasn't part of our packs.

Tristan's hand found mine, and he laced our fingers together, giving me a gentle squeeze.

I looked up at him, and he was staring at the fire, his jaw tight and his eyes dark.

He was thinking about everything too, I realized. About Seraphine and what she'd done, about Daxon and the threat he'd posed.

About how close we'd come to losing everything.

"It's over," I whispered, more to myself than to him.

He looked down at me and nodded. "It's over," he repeated.

The pack began to disperse slowly, people talking in low voices as they walked away.

Orion and Sarah came over to us, and Orion clapped Tristan on the shoulder.

"Good speech," he said.

Tristan nodded. "Thanks."

Then he moved to me and hugged me for a while before pulling away.

"Hope you're good?" I nodded but corrected myself.

"Yes. I'm fine" I said with a smile.

"Good. Good."

Sarah reached out and squeezed my hand. "How are you holding up?" she asked.

"I'm okay," I said, and I meant it. "I'm ready to move on."

She smiled at me, her eyes warm with understanding. "Good. You deserve to be happy."

Derek approached us next, his expression unreadable. "It's done," he said simply.

Tristan nodded. "It's done."

He looked at me for a moment, then back at Tristan. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"I do," Tristan said. "Thank you."

He walked away, and I watched him go, feeling a strange sense of gratitude toward him. He'd been there when we needed him, and that meant something.

The fire was still burning, but it was dying down now, the bodies almost completely consumed.

I stared at the flames, feeling the heat on my skin, and took a deep breath.

This was closure. This was the end of Seraphine and Daxon, the end of their betrayal and their schemes.

Now I could focus on the future, on building something good with Tristan.

As if reading my thoughts, Tristan turned to me and pulled me into his arms, holding me close.

"Ready to go home?" he asked.

I nodded against his chest. "Yeah. I'm ready."

We stood there for a moment longer, watching as the last of the flames flickered and died, leaving only ash and smoke behind.

And then we turned and walked away, leaving the past behind us, ready to face whatever came next together.