The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 26

The woman lying unconscious on the hospital bed was someone I never thought I'd see again. Someone I'd hoped to never see again, if I'm being completely honest.

Seraphine Ashworth.

Even after all these years, even with her face swollen and bruised beyond recognition, I knew it was her. The same perfectly straight blonde hair, now matted with blood.

The same sharp cheekbones that used to look down at me with such disdain. The same small scar above her left eyebrow that she'd gotten when she tried to fight a senior girl who'd told her she wasn't pretty enough for Tristan.

Seraphine had been my senior in high school, two years older and infinitely more confident than I ever was. She'd made my life a living hell for months, all because she had a massive crush on Tristan and he didn't even know she existed.

I never told Orion or Tristan about what she put me through. It seemed like such a silly girl thing compared to the real problems they were dealing with - pack politics, training, preparing for their futures as leaders.

How could I complain about mean girls and stolen lunches when they were learning to protect our entire community?

But Seraphim's torment had been relentless. She'd slam my locker shut on my fingers, "accidentally" spill drinks on my homework, spread rumors that I was sleeping around with human boys.

Once, she'd cornered me in the bathroom and told me that freaks like me didn't deserve protective brothers, that if I didn't stay away from Tristan, she'd make sure something really bad happened to me.

The worst part was that Tristan never even looked in her direction. She was pretty enough - all the boys in school thought so - but something about her desperation seemed to repel him.

Maybe he could sense the cruel streak that she hid so well from adults, or maybe he just wasn't interested in someone who tried so hard to get his attention.

Did they end up together later? Had she finally worn him down after I left for London? But that didn't make sense either. It wasn't her picture plastered all over Tristan's apartment - those belonged to some mysterious woman with dark hair and kind eyes that I'd never been brave enough to ask about.

It wasn't the fact that Seraphine was the one lying on the bed that made me speechless, though. It was how she looked.

She looked like someone who'd been hit by a truck, then backed over for good measure. Her face was a canvas of purple and black bruises, her lip split in two places, and her left arm was in a cast that suggested multiple fractures.

There were finger-shaped bruises around her throat that made my stomach lurch with recognition.

I turned my gaze toward Tristan, and he nodded grimly, letting me know my horrified thoughts were absolutely correct.

"Her mate did this," the young pack member said quietly, his voice filled with disgust. "Left her for dead behind the packhouse. If Lucius hadn't been doing perimeter checks..."

I felt the blood drain from my face. Her mate had done this to her. The person who was supposed to love and protect her above all others had beaten her nearly to death and left her broken body like garbage.

I felt a sharp pain on my heart.

The machines around her bed beeped steadily, monitoring vital signs that were apparently stable but fragile. She had tubes in her nose helping her breathe, and the IV in her arm was delivering what looked like a significant amount of pain medication.

We stayed for what felt like hours but was probably only two. Tristan paced the small room like a caged wolf, his alpha energy crackling with barely contained rage.

I sat in the uncomfortable visitor's chair, trying not to stare at Seraphine's battered face, trying not to let the memories it triggered drag me back into my own dark places.

When she finally woke up, her voice was barely a whisper, hoarse from the damage to her throat.

"Tristan?" she managed, her eyes unfocused from the medication.

"I'm here," he said, immediately moving to her bedside. His voice was gentle, the way it got when he was trying to comfort someone who was hurting. "You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore."

She tried to sit up but winced and fell back against the pillows. "He said... he said I embarrassed him at the pack meeting. That I talked too much, made him look weak."

Tristan's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Sera, how long has this been going on?"

"A while," she admitted, tears starting to slip down her cheeks. "It wasn't always this bad. At first it was just... grabbing too hard when he was angry. Pushing me when I said something he didn't like. But lately..."

She trailed off, her hand moving unconsciously to her stomach. "I lost my baby," she whispered, and the pain in her voice was so raw it made my chest ache. "Last month. He said it was my fault, that I was too weak to carry his pup properly."

That's when the memories I'd managed to bury came flooding back.

The room started spinning, and I must have made some kind of sound because suddenly Tristan was at my side, his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"I'm fine," I managed, even though I was anything but fine. The similarities between Victoria's story and my own were too much, too close to the surface.

Tristan studied my face for a long moment, and I could see the exact moment he put the pieces together. His expression darkened with understanding and rage.

"We should go," he said quietly. "Let Victoria rest."

The next day at work, everything felt different. Tristan was distracted, constantly checking his phone, and I could tell his mind was elsewhere.

Around noon, he got a call that made him immediately start gathering his things.

"She's asking for me," he said, not really looking at me. "The doctor thinks it would be good for her recovery if she has familiar faces around."

My heart sank, even though I had no right to feel possessive of his time and attention. Victoria needed him more than I did. She was fighting for her life and recovery from trauma that I understood all too well. Even though I still don't know their relationship together.

"You should go," I said, forcing my voice to sound normal. "She needs you."

He hesitated, clearly torn. "Come with me. I don't like leaving you alone, especially after....." He didn't complete it but I already know what he was saying.

"I can take care of myself," I insisted, even though part of me wanted nothing more than to stay close to his protective presence. "Leah will drive me home. We've been doing fine without you hovering over me."

He tried to argue, but I could see the urgency in his eyes. Seraphine was calling for him, and he needed to answer.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, grabbing his keys. "Call me if anything happens. Anything at all."