The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 160

Athena

"God I still can't believe you got him to race," Sarah said next to me, her voice tight with nerves.

I watched Tristan on Derek's bike at the starting line, rolling his shoulders with that smooth, dangerous grace that always made my breath catch. "He wanted to. I could see it in his eyes."

"Still," Sarah said, "Tristan never goes back on his words, I never believed he'd race again."

"So did I," Orion said, his other arm holding her waist, but there was something almost excited in his tone now.

He knew what Tristan could do. We all did.

Down at the starting line, Tristan moved with easy precision, testing the bike's weight, checking the tire pressure with his boot.

Even from here, I could see the change in him—the way his senses were already taking everything in.

Wind direction. Track temperature. The slight shake in one of the other bikes that meant something was loose.

Derek stood beside him, probably giving last-minute advice, but Tristan wasn't really listening. His head tilted slightly, tracking sounds the rest of us couldn't hear.

There were six other riders.

Seven total.

I recognized Marc on the black bike, he was decent, played fair. But then there was Vic on the red bike, and my stomach dropped. Cole on the yellow.

Jensen with the scar across his jaw. Three others I didn't know, but they had that look. That hungry, desperate look of riders who'd do anything to win.

"That's a lot of competition," Sarah said quietly.

"They're not competition," Orion said, and I heard the pride in his voice. "They're just in the way."

I wanted to believe that, but something in my gut twisted.

The sickness that had been my constant companion these past few days came back, sharp and strong.

Maybe it was morning sickness, though calling it that was a joke since it hit me at all hours. Or maybe it was instinct, but I suddenly noticed how the other six riders kept glancing at Tristan, with calculation.

I know that look, I'd seen it countless times but this felt different.

"Does this feel off to anyone else?" I asked.

Derek had come back to us, wiping his hands on his jeans. "What do you mean?"

"Look at them. They keep looking at Tristan like..."

"Like they planned something," Orion finished, his face darkening. His arm tightened around Sarah's waist.

"You think they're working together?" Sarah asked, leaning into her husband slightly.

Of course they are. They always work together, but the question was, how do they know Tristan was going to race today? Or did they just plan it.

"Tristan embarrassed a lot of people before he quit," Derek explained to Serah slowly. "Set records that still haven't been broken. Made riders look like amateurs."

"He's won against five riders ganging up on him before," I said, remembering that legendary race months ago.

The race that had become a story everyone told in the underground circuit. Five experienced riders had worked together trying to take Tristan down, and he'd still crossed the finish line first, barely breaking a sweat. "They wouldn't be stupid enough to try again."

"Six is better odds than five," Orion said grimly.

"And they've had months to plan," Derek added, his jaw tight. "Months to watch footage, study his moves, figure out his patterns."

My hand drifted to my still-flat stomach, a protective move I'd started doing over the past week since finding out about the twins.

There was nothing to feel yet, no visible sign of the lives growing inside me, but I was aware of them anyway. Of how fragile they were. Of how much Tristan had to lose now.

"Maybe we should stop this," I said suddenly regret asking him to race. "Tell him not to race."

If anything happens to him, I won't forgive myself. But then I remind myself who Tristan is.

Tristan is one of the best racer I've seen and he'll be careful, I trust him.

"Too late," Sarah said softly, and she was right.

A horn blared and the crowd pressed forward, everyone wanting to see the start.

Sarah grabbed Orion's hand and I saw his thumb stroke across her knuckles, a small comfort that made my chest ache because Tristan should be here beside me, not down there on that track.

The riders revved their engines and the sound went through my entire body, making my nausea spike. I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to breathe through it.

"You okay?" Sarah asked, noticing.

"Just nervous," I said, or maybe it wasn't a lie. I was nervous. Terrified, actually.

I couldn't see Tristan's face anymore because of his helmet, but I could see the way he sat on the bike, relaxed. Centered and completely in control.

This was his world, the place where he became something more than human, or and Alpha.

This was a place he could be himself. He could be Tristan.

Another horn, longer this time.

Then they were off.

The bikes shot forward in an explosion of screaming engines and burning rubber.

Tristan didn't get the best start, he'd positioned himself in the middle of the pack, probably being careful for the first time in his racing career, and three riders immediately shot ahead.

But I could see what the crowd couldn't, the way Vic and Cole adjusted their positions to box Tristan in, how Marc, who usually raced clean, was suddenly riding way too close to Tristan's left side.

"They ARE working together," Derek said, his voice hard. "All six of them."

"Can he handle it?" I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.

Of course he can, I knew what he could do but that didn't stop the way my hands were shaking.

"He's handled worse," Orion said, but even he sounded uncertain. "But he's riding different tonight. More careful."

"Because of the babies," I whispered.

They disappeared around the first turn and for those few seconds I could only hear engines echoing off concrete and metal, the sound building and layering until it was almost unbearable.

My nausea was getting worse and I couldn't tell if it was pregnancy or fear.

Then they came back into view and my heart stopped.

All six riders had Tristan surrounded.

Vic and Cole in front, riding side by side to block any way past. Marc and Jensen on either side, so close their handlebars almost touched Tristan's. Two more behind, blocking any escape.

It was a moving cage.

"Jesus Christ," Orion breathed.

"They're trying to trap him," Derek said. "Force him to ride at their pace, wear him down mentally."

"Will it work?" Sarah asked.

"Not a chance," Derek's voice held complete certainty. "They're thinking like humans. Tristan's not human, not when he's on a bike."

They hit the straightaway and that's when it started.

Marc swerved left, on purpose, his bike coming within inches of Tristan's.

A human rider would have panicked, would have braked or swerved and lost control, but Tristan didn't even flinch.

His Alpha reflexes were faster than human sight and he shifted his weight, dropped his inside knee, and the bike responded like it was part of him, sliding through a gap that shouldn't have existed.

The crowd roared.

"Did you see that?" someone behind us shouted. "Did you fucking see that?"

"That's impossible," another voice said. "That gap was too small."

"Not for him," a third voice said, almost reverent. "Not for him."

But Jensen was ready, cutting right to close the opening. Tristan accelerated hard, Derek's bike had power and Tristan knew exactly how to use it, and pulled even with the cage's front edge.

Vic looked over and even through his helmet I could see the moment he realized Tristan was better than they'd thought. Better than they'd planned for.

They thought they were better because he hadn't raced for months, but they were wrong.

Tristan is the king on the game.