THE BIKER ALPHA WHO BECAME MY SECOND CHANCE MATE novel Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Five years later

Athena

The white dress feels like chains around my neck.

I stare at myself in the mirror of the bridal suite, my reflection wavering through the tears I refuse to let fall. The woman looking back at me is a stranger, hollow cheeks, dark circles carefully concealed with makeup, a smile that doesn't reach my eyes.

The dress Daxon chose hangs off my frame, too big now after months of barely eating, of walking on eggshells, of shrinking myself smaller and smaller until I almost disappeared entirely.

"You look beautiful," whispers Elena, one of the pack's omega females assigned to help me prepare. Her voice is gentle, but I catch the way her eyes linger on the foundation caked thick around my left eye, the way the sleeves of my dress are positioned to hide the fingerprint bruises on my arms.

Beautiful. The word tastes bitter in my mouth. When was the last time I felt beautiful? When was the last time I felt anything other than afraid?

"Thank you," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

Through the thin walls, I can hear the pack members gathering in the main hall. Their excited chatter grates against my nerves like sandpaper. They have no idea what they're celebrating.

They think they're witnessing the union of their Alpha and his chosen mate. They don't know they're watching a funeral, the death of whatever was left of the woman I used to be.

Elena adjusts my veil, her fingers surprisingly gentle. "The Alpha requested that you wear your hair down," she says carefully. "He said it frames your face better."

Of course he did. Daxon has an opinion about everything. How I should dress, how I should speak, how I should breathe. The hair thing is new, though.

For the past three years, he's insisted I wear it up, professional, not drawing attention to myself. The change makes my skin crawl. What does he want now? What new way has he found to control me?

My fingers trace the silver necklace at my throat—Daxon's "gift" from this morning. It sits heavy against my skin, cold and restricting. Everything he gives me comes with invisible strings attached, invisible chains that bind me tighter to him with each passing day.

The door opens without a knock, and he fills the doorway. Even after three years, Daxon Sullivan still takes my breath away, but not in the way it used to. Now it's fear that steals the air from my lungs.

He's devastatingly handsome in his black tuxedo, his dark hair perfectly styled, his Alpha presence commanding the room. To everyone else, he's the perfect groom. I know better.

"Ladies, could you give us a moment?" His voice is smooth silk, the tone he uses when he wants something.

Elena and the other helpers file out quickly, leaving us alone. I keep my eyes on my reflection, watching him in the mirror as he approaches. He stops behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders, and I have to fight not to flinch.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. "You look absolutely perfect."

The word tastes bitter. Perfect for what? For the show? For his image? Perfect victim?

His hands tighten on my shoulders, not enough to bruise, he's learned to be more careful about visible marks, but enough to make his point.

"I know the past few weeks have been... difficult. But after tonight, everything changes. No more doubt. No more hesitation. You'll be mine completely."

Completely. The word makes my stomach turn. I already feel like I'm disappearing, piece by piece, day by day. What will be left of me after tonight?

"I love you," he says, pressing his lips to the top of my head. The words sound rehearsed, empty. When was the last time he said them and meant it? When was the last time I believed them?

"I love you too," I whisper back, because it's what he expects. The lie tastes like copper in my mouth.

He releases me and checks his watch. "Ten minutes. Don't be late, Athena. And don't disappoint me." The threat hangs in the air between us, unspoken but understood. I nod, not trusting my voice.

After he leaves, I sink into the chair, my legs suddenly too weak to hold me. Ten minutes. Ten minutes until I walk down that aisle and bind myself to him forever. Ten minutes until there's no escape, no hope, no future that doesn't include his fists and his rage and his suffocating control.

My phone buzzes on the vanity. A text from an unknown number: Thinking of you today. You deserve happiness. - A friend

I stare at the message, my heart hammering. Who could have sent this? I don't have friends anymore. Daxon made sure of that, slowly isolating me from everyone who might see the truth, might ask questions, might offer me a way out.

Another buzz: You're stronger than you know.

My hands shake as I delete the messages. If Daxon sees them, if he thinks I'm talking to someone behind his back... I can't even finish the thought. The last time he thought I was "keeping secrets" from him, I couldn't sit properly for a week.

A knock at the door makes me jump. "Miss Morrison? It's time."

Elena peeks in, her smile bright and expectant. Behind her, I can hear the processional music beginning. The moment I've been dreading for months is finally here.

I stand on unsteady legs, smoothing down my dress. In the mirror, the woman staring back at me looks like a ghost. Maybe she is. Maybe I died two months ago in our apartment, bleeding on the bathroom floor, and this is just my corpse going through the motions.

"Ready?" Elena asks.

No. I'm not ready. I'll never be ready for this.

"Yes," I lie.

The walk down the aisle feels like walking underwater. Everything is muffled, distorted, unreal. I see faces in the crowd, pack members smiling, nodding, some of them crying happy tears. They think they're witnessing something beautiful. They have no idea they're watching a woman walk to her own execution.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify