The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 27

Leah and I finished up the day's work, but I couldn't concentrate on anything. My mind kept wandering to Sera lying in that hospital bed, to the similarities between her story and mine, to the way Tristan had dropped everything to be there for her.

When we finally closed up, Leah offered to drive me home as planned.

"Actually," I said, making a sudden decision, "could you drop me at the market? I want to get some things to make dinner."

She looked surprised but nodded. "Of course. I can wait for you if you want."

"That would be great," I said, grateful for her company. The thought of being completely alone right now didn't appeal to me.

The market was busy with the evening rush, families picking up last-minute ingredients for dinner, couples debating over wine choices.

I moved through the aisles mechanically, grabbing ingredients for Tristan's favorite pasta dish. Cooking for him felt like something concrete I could do, a way to show care when everything else felt so complicated.

I was walking back to where Leah was parked, bags of groceries in both hands, when something made me freeze in the middle of the sidewalk.

A man was walking about fifty feet ahead of me, and something about his silhouette made my breath catch in my throat.

The way he carried his shoulders, the length of his stride, the familiar set of his dark hair.

But it was his clothes that made my blood turn to ice. The same black shirt he'd been wearing the day I rejected him.

Daxon.

It couldn't be. It was impossible. He was an ocean away. There was no way he'd followed me here, no way he'd tracked me down after all this time.

But as I watched him walk, every instinct I had was screaming that it was him.

"Athena!" Leah was calling from her car, probably wondering why I'd stopped moving. "Everything okay?"

I couldn't answer. Couldn't move. Couldn't do anything but stare at the figure walking away from me with growing certainty and terror.

I had to know for sure. Had to confirm whether my worst nightmare had just become reality.

Dropping the grocery bags where I stood, I started following him, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

He was moving at a casual pace, like he had all the time in the world, like he wasn't being followed by the woman whose life he'd destroyed.

I didn't know how far I've been following, but then he suddenly stopped walking.

The man took what felt like an eternity to turn around. I stood there frozen, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I thought it might burst.

My hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tremors starting in my fingertips and spreading up my arms like an earthquake through my entire body.

It was only then that I looked around and realized with growing horror where I was. We were in an alley. A narrow, dark alley with brick walls on both sides and only one way out - the way I'd come from.

I hadn't even noticed my surroundings when I'd chased after him. I'd been so focused on confirming my worst fears that I'd walked straight into a trap.

How could I be so stupid? All those hours of training with Kiara, all those lessons about being aware of your environment, and I'd thrown it all away the moment I thought I saw Daxon. I'd let panic and old trauma override every bit of common sense I'd managed to rebuild.

If this really was him, if he'd somehow tracked me across an ocean and found me here, there would be nowhere to run.

The alley was a dead end, and even if I screamed, who would hear me? Who would come running to help a girl who'd been dumb enough to follow a dangerous man into a place with no witnesses?

My wolf, Ciara, was completely silent. Still locked away in whatever dark corner of my mind she'd retreated to, still refusing to help me even when I might need her most. I was on my own, just like I'd been during those final terrible months with Daxon.

But if I couldn't run, then I could fight. The thought came to me with surprising clarity through the fog of panic. I might be trapped, but I wasn't the same helpless girl who'd cowered in corners while her mate destroyed her piece by piece. I'd learned things. I had fists now, and a little knowledge of how to use them.

I planted my feet and waited as the figure turned slowly, preparing myself for the confrontation I'd been dreading for weeks.

When he finally faced me completely, I felt the air rush out of my lungs in a mixture of relief and embarrassment so intense it made me dizzy.

It wasn't Daxon.

The stranger looking at me with obvious confusion was maybe the same height and build, with similar dark hair, but his face was completely wrong.

His eyes were brown instead of Daxon's cold gray, his jaw was softer, and there was a kindness in his expression that Daxon had never possessed even at his most charming.

"Excuse me, miss?" he said, his voice carrying a slight accent I couldn't place. "Do I know you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

I probably looked exactly like that. My face was probably white as paper, my hands still shaking, my breathing still too fast and shallow. I tried to pull myself together, tried to remember how to act like a normal person instead of a traumatized mess.

"No... no, sorry," I managed, my voice coming out rougher than I intended. "I thought... you look like someone I used to know."

His expression softened with understanding, and he gave me a gentle smile. "Ah, I hear that a lot actually. One of those faces, I guess. Happens all the time."

"I'm really sorry," I said again, backing away slowly. The relief was making me feel weak and shaky, like my legs might give out at any moment. "I didn't mean to follow you or anything weird like that."

"No harm done," he said, still smiling. "Hope you find whoever you're looking for."

If only he knew that the last thing I wanted was to find the person I'd mistaken him for.

I turned and walked back toward the main street as quickly as my unsteady legs would carry me, my heart still racing but for different reasons now.

The embarrassment was almost as bad as the terror had been. What if he thought I was some kind of stalker? What if he called the police about the crazy woman who'd followed him into an alley?

The moment I emerged from the alley, I saw Leah frantically looking around the market area, her phone pressed to her ear. When she spotted me, she let out a visible sigh of relief and rushed over.

"There you are! Where did you go? You scared me half to death!" She was practically breathless with worry. "I was about to call Tristan, but I realized I don't even have his contact information."

I forced what I hoped was a reassuring smile, though it probably looked as shaky as I felt. "I'm fine. I just... thought I saw someone I knew."

She studied my face with the sharp eyes of someone who wasn't easily fooled. I could see her taking in my pale complexion, my still-trembling hands, the way I kept glancing over my shoulder like I expected someone to jump out at me.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look like you've been running."

"I'm good," I lied. "Let's just go home."