The Biker Alpha Who Became My Second Chance Mate Chapter 93

Athena's POV

I stood in front of the mirror - while Tristan was having his shower - looking at my reflection, my face looked bright and my cheeks were popped out.

I looked happy and I was. Of course I was, Tristan had been wonderful.

God.

And sex? It was fantastic, we made love like we were rabbits. There was no corner in my that he hasn't pinned me to and made me moan his name.

He was intoxicating?

He had just won a very important race.

Of course, he'd won. He always did. We were an unstoppable force in the racing world, both of us dominating in our own right.

While he tore up the asphalt with his sleek machine, I commanded respect in my own lane, and together we were absolutely killing it. The other racers looked at us with a mixture of admiration and envy. We were the power couple everyone whispered about.

After his victory, we celebrated like we always did, with passionate kisses and melodious moans. The trophy meant nothing compared to the way he looked at me, like I was his greatest prize.

This night, like every night for the past week, Tristan came home with me. What had started as one quiet evening had turned into something neither of us wanted to end.

He'd been sleeping at my place for days now, and honestly, I wasn't ready to let him leave. His presence filled every corner of my apartment, from his leather jacket draped over my chair to his cologne lingering on my pillows.

"I should probably go back to my place soon," he'd suggested one day, but his arms tightened around me even as the words left his lips.

"Should you?" I'd asked, tracing lazy circles on his chest.

That was three days ago, and he still hadn't left. His clothes were mixed with mine in the laundry basket, his toothbrush sat next to mine in the bathroom, and I'd started buying his favorite coffee without even thinking about it.

We were playing house, and neither of us was brave enough to acknowledge how perfectly domestic it all felt.

The past few days blurred together in the most beautiful way. We'd drive to work together, at the office, he'd find excuses to stop by my desk - bringing me coffee, asking about reports, or simply stealing a quick kiss when no one was looking.

Anyone with eyes could see we were completely gone for each other. The way he'd light up when I entered a room, or how I'd unconsciously lean into him during meetings - we weren't fooling anyone.

The nights were the best part though. We'd come home to my apartment, and cook dinner together, him chopping vegetables while I stirred sauces, our bodies moving around each other. It was starting to feel like our apartment.

We'd watch movies curled up on my couch, his fingers running through my hair as I rested my head on his chest. Sometimes we'd just talk for hours, sharing stories and dreams we'd never told anyone else.

"I never want to leave," he'd whispered last night as we lay tangled in my sheets, the moonlight casting silver patterns across our skin.

"Then don't," I'd replied, and meant every word.

But reality has a way of intruding on perfect moments.

Tristan came out, fresh from the shower and wearing nothing but sweatpants that hung low on his hips, when his phone rang. The sudden harsh sound cut through our peaceful evening like. He glanced at the screen and his entire demeanor shifted.

"It's Max," he said, his voice tight with concern. Max is his Beta.

I watched his face change as he listened. The color drained from his cheeks, and his free hand clenched into a fist.

"Is she... okay, I'll be right there." He hung up and stood abruptly, running his hands through his still-damp hair.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up in bed and pulling the sheet around myself.

"Seraphine tried to commit suicide," he said, his voice hollow. "She's in the hospital." My blood ran cold.

Seraphine. Of course it was her.

As a member of Tristan's pack, she had direct access to him. Even when she wasn't physically present, that woman found ways to insert herself into our lives, to pull Tristan away from me. Being his pack member gave her a claim on his attention that I couldn't even complain.

He was already moving, grabbing clothes from the dresser where he'd been keeping them. "Come with me," he said, turning to look at me with desperate eyes. "Please, Athena. I don't want to leave you alone."

But I couldn't. I shook my head, and I saw the hurt flash across his face.

"I can't, Tristan. I'm sorry, but I can't. I'll wait till you get back."

The truth was, I didn't want to come face to face with her. There was something about Seraphine that made my skin crawl, something dark and manipulative that everyone else seemed blind to.

Every instinct I had screamed warnings whenever her name came up. I didn't trust her, and I had a terrible feeling that this "suicide attempt" was just another play in whatever game she was running.

But I couldn't tell him that because he had a duty to his people and I wouldn't stop him even though it's someone I don't like.

He didn't want to leave me. I could see it in the way he hesitated, half-dressed and torn between two loyalties. For a moment, I thought he might choose to stay, might prioritize our relationship over his duties as Alpha.

But I knew better. Tristan was too good, too honorable to abandon a pack member who needed help, even if that someone made my skin crawl. His responsibility to his pack ran deeper than blood - it was woven into his very soul.

"Go," I insisted, even though every fiber of my being wanted to beg him to stay. "She needs you right now."

He kissed me hard before he left, pouring all his conflicted emotions into that single desperate contact.

"I love you," he whispered against my lips. "I'll make sure to come as soon as possible."

"I love you too. I'll wait for you." I whispered back, though part of me wondered if that was really true.

After he left, the apartment felt enormous and empty. I tried to distract myself with a book, then television, then cleaning, but nothing worked. The silence was deafening after days of constant companionship.

About thirty minutes after Tristan left, my phone rang. Derek's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey," I answered, grateful for any distraction.

"Are you home?" he asked immediately.

"Yeah, why?"

"Are you alone?"

I hesitated. "Tristan went out to handle something. Why? What's going on?"

"I'm on my way over," Derek said, and there was something in his tone that made my stomach clench with anxiety.

"Derek, what.." But he'd already hung up.

I set my phone down with shaking hands. First Seraphine's supposed suicide attempt, now Derek calling with that strange urgency in his voice. What was happening tonight?

Derek and I are now friends, turns out Tristan had spoken to him man to man.

Alpha to Alpha, yep.

I was shocked when I heard too, Tristan was aware all along.

Of course he knew, they were friends and partners.

Derek wasn't from from around here, he'd left his place to come start something here.

I didn't ask for more information because I didn't think I needed to know. But right now, I couldn't help but think he was in danger.

I tried calling him back, but it went straight to voicemail. So I waited, pacing around my living room in nothing but Tristan's oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Every minute felt like an hour.

When I finally heard the knock at my door, relief flooded through me. Derek was here, and whatever was wrong, he'd explain it and everything would make sense again.

I didn't bother asking who it was - Derek had said he was coming over, after all. I unlocked the bolt and pulled the door open, already starting to speak.

"Thank God you're here, I was starting to..."

The words died in my throat. My steps faltered, and I felt my eyes widen until they felt like they might pop out of my skull. The blood drained from my face so fast I thought I might faint.

Standing in my doorway, wearing a cold smile that didn't reach their eyes, was the absolute last person I ever expected to see.

"What..." I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "What are you... doing here?"