The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress

Chapter 7

Word Count: 869 | Released on: Today at 15:04

hne

r, watching Alistair finish handing the jade manifest to Boone. True to my covert signal, my old steward did

harp scent of cheap musk and spilled champagne drifted from the alcove ahead. Even with

voice was thick with spite. "Tomorrow morning at the freight office, bury that desert bi

Hatti giggled greedily, the sound o

ession cold. So they wante

the gravel driveway toward the highway bus stop. The night wind off

massive 2000cc engine sh

m chopper tore down the hill, the rear tire locking up in a smoking skid as

thunder of the pipes, tossing a pair of he

jawline under the streetlamp. "Thanks, but no than

Darrell leaned over the tank, veins bulging on his forearm as he clamped a hand around my wrist and hauled me onto the narr

wolfless cover, I hooked two fingers into the metal side-loops

f his wrist, he opened the throttle wide. The chopper launched forward

rpin curve above the crashing waves, centrifugal force threw me forward,

ll shouted into the roaring wind, his voice tight and raw. "Small t

called back calmly against his shoulder blade. "Too mu

, pushing the speedometer past a hundred. "If I find out a r

on Claw, you wouldn't have a

hopped off cleanly without a wobble, tossed his Kevlar gloves onto the scorching fuel tank,

ell

aphne's slender back disappear behind the oa

at faint whiff of cold pine beneath her bitter herbs hit me like a sledgehammer. Ten years ago, trapped at the bottom of a freezing snow cave with silver poi

r walked in, his boots had angled toward the stage-

s orphan know Sugar's song and command t

ry medical record, birth certificate, and border crossing from that desert town over the last twenty years. D

Chapter End

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The Biker Alpha's Contract Mate: The Hidden Heiress

Kattie Eaton Werewolf

“I was forced into a ninety-day probationary contract as the Old Lady of Darrell Sexton, the Alpha Prez of the Iron Claw MC. Hiding my rare White Wolf bloodline under a dead, human-like scent, the entire pack treated me like worthless country trash. His jealous club girls hated me, and one night, they finally made their move. They tricked me into a condemned, remote warehouse in the freight yard and padlocked the heavy iron doors from the outside. When the lights suddenly died, plunging me into pitch-blackness, the trauma of being locked in a blood-soaked underground pit ten years ago violently triggered. Suffocating, trembling, and bleeding from a bad fall in the dark, I pulled out my phone. With exactly one percent battery left, I texted an "SOS" to the only person on this territory strong enough to tear down those iron doors-Darrell. But half a mile away in the roaring Clubhouse, Darrell glanced at the message from my unsaved number. Assuming it was just another desperate club girl playing games for his attention, he let out a cold sneer. "Looks like another desperate club girl playing stupid games." He locked the screen and flipped his phone face-down on the bar without a second thought. As my screen went permanently black and I lay gasping for air on the freezing, oil-slicked concrete floor, the agonizing truth crushed my chest. He didn't care, and he wasn't coming. Right before the darkness swallowed my consciousness completely, the last shred of my patience died. Darrell Sexton, I will never forgive you for this. When I get out of here, I'm tearing up this contract, and this arrogant pack will learn exactly what kind of monster they just woke up.”