Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 62: passionate night of celebration

Maddox’s PoV:

I leaned against the cool metal of the lockers long after the hallway had emptied, arms folded tight across my chest, replaying the moment on a loop that felt almost too sweet to be real.

Kianna walked into the cafeteria with Mordred.Not just walking, but her hand was lightly on his arm, guiding him like he was something fragile she was worried might break.

Her voice was soft, concerned, asking if he’d eaten anything yet. Him looking like absolute hell—pale as paper, dark circles carved deep under his eyes, shoulders hunched like he’d carried the weight of the world all night and still letting her fuss over him.

The Irony, he’s always acting like a motherfucken baby In front of her, it’s sick to watch.

And me?

I’d given them nothing more than a quick, casual smile. The kind you flash at someone you vaguely recognize from a class two years ago. Polite, distant and completely unbothered.

I’d felt Mordred’s stare drill into my back the entire time I walked past their table. Felt the confusion rolling off him in thick waves, the way his body went rigid like he was waiting for me to spin around, snarl, stake my claim the way I always had before.

He’d braced for it—shoulders squared, jaw tight, ready for the confrontation. But I didn’t give it to him.

I just kept walking, wanting to give him a tiny mystery to puzzle his slow ass mind.

Let him wonder. Let him twist in that uncertainty and make him lie awake tonight trying to figure out why the possessive, jealous Maddox Bianchi suddenly didn’t care that his rival was sitting across from the girl he wanted, sharing lunch like they were something again.

He had every right to be concerned. Because in eight days, during moonrise at 7:14 p.m. exactly, I’d already checked the almanac three times—Kianna would finally understand why he should have been terrified from the very beginning.

Why he should have fought harder. Why should’ve eliminated me when he had the chance.Because once the bond snapped fully into place, every doubt she had, every fear, every lingering soft feeling for him would drown beneath the tide of what she’d feel for me.

She’d look at me and feel home. Feel need, feel the kind of pull that rewrote biology and choice and everything she thought she knew about free will.

She’d be mine forever and that bastard would have no choice but to sit back and watch.

The thought of it sent a slow, hot surge through my veins, wolf stirring low in my gut with a satisfied rumble that was almost a purr.

I pushed off the lockers and headed out to the parking lot, keys swinging from my fingers, grin I couldn’t quite wipe off my face.

This kind of victory tasted better than anything I’d ever won on a field.

Mandy was waiting exactly where she said she’d be—leaning against my truck, blonde ponytail flicking in the wind, cheer skirt riding up just enough to show off tanned thighs.

She’d been orbiting me hard since last week: flirty smiles in the halls, lingering touches when she "accidentally" brushed past me in the cafeteria line and DMs that got bolder every night.

She knew my reputation and knew damn well I was technically off-limits because of Kianna. But still didn’t care, she was ready to risk whatever drama came with a night in Maddox Bianchi’s bed.

Perfect.

"Hey, stranger," she purred the second I got close, sliding her arms around my neck like she’d been waiting years instead of minutes. "Thought you were gonna ghost me again."

"Not tonight." I opened the passenger door for her, hand low on the small of her back as she climbed in, skirt flipping higher. "Got the house to myself."

Her eyes lit up like I’d handed her a trophy. "Finally." she said with a broad smile.

The drive home was quick—her hand on my thigh the whole way, music loud, windows cracked to let the cold December air whip through the cab.

She chatted about cheer practice, some upcoming game and gossip about who was hooking up with who.

I nodded in the right places, made the right sounds, but my mind was already eight days ahead.

Picturing Kianna in my passenger seat. Kianna’s hand on my leg. Kianna looking at me like Mandy was looking at me now—only real, permanent and inevitable.

We slipped in through the side entrance. Staff had the weekend off, Dad was at some donor dinner that would run late whilst my step mom was at a spa retreat in the mountains.

The mansion echoed around us—marble floors, high ceilings, silence that felt almost reverent.

I led her upstairs to my wing, past the glass cases of trophies and framed jerseys, straight to the master bathroom.

The tub was massive—deep enough to sink into, wide enough for two, jacuzzi jets that could pound the tension out of every muscle.

I turned the taps on hot, steam rising fast, filling the room with heat and the faint scent of the eucalyptus oil the cleaners used.

I stripped off my shirt slowly, letting her watch, then stepped out of my jeans and boxers. Sank into the water naked, leaned back against the curved edge, and crooked a finger to signal an invitation.

"Join me?"

Mandy didn’t need to be asked twice.She gave me a show—slow, deliberate, exactly what she knew I wanted.

Jacket sliding off her shoulders and hitting the tile. Her Crop rop top peeled up inch by inch, revealing the lacy black bra underneath. Skirt unzipped and shimmied down toned legs. Bra unhooked with a practiced flick, breasts spilling free.

Finally the matching lace panties, then she turned so I got the full view as they dropped.She stood there completely bare, skin flushed pink from the steam, eyes locked on mine, lips parted just enough to look inviting.

She knew how good she looked, Knew the fucken power in it.

But in my head, it wasn’t a blonde hair and blue eyes girl with a cheerleader confidence climbing into the water with me.

It was dark waves and storm-gray eyes and that quiet strength Kianna carried like armor.

Kianna, naked and willing, sliding into the tub because the bond made her need it as badly as I did. Because she couldn’t.

The fantasy hit like a drug—blood rushing south, wolf growling low and possessive, heat coiling tight in my gut.

Mandy straddled me, water sloshing over the edges, her hands sliding up my chest.

"You’re in a really good mood tonight," she murmured, lips brushing my ear, voice husky. "Never thought you’d actually let me all the way in."

I kissed her—deep, claiming, pouring every ounce of pent-up triumph into it.

My hands gripped her hips, pulled her flush against me, felt her gasp into my mouth as she ground down.

"Why so happy?" she whispered when we broke for air, nails scraping lightly down my shoulders. "What changed? You’ve been blowing me off for weeks."

I smiled against her throat, nipping the skin there hard enough to leave a mark. "Just feeling like I finally won something that really matters."

She didn’t ask for details. Really didn’t care, and even if she did...I wouldn’t have told her anyways.

She just arched into my touch as my fingers slid lower, finding her slick and ready.

We stayed in the tub a long time—kissing until our lips were swollen, touching until the water cooled around us, her cries echoing off marble as I brought her over the edge again and again with my hand.

She begged beautifully, voice breaking on my name. Then I lifted her out as the water streamed off both of us, then I carried her still dripping to the bedroom and took her properly.

All night on every surface and in every position. Slow and teasing until she was shaking, then hard and fast until she screamed.

Her nails raked down my back, my teeth marked her shoulder, her thighs, anywhere I could reach.

I lost count of how many times I made her cum—only knew that every gasp, every clench, every broken plea fed the fantasy: Kianna beneath me, around me and mine in every way that counted.

By the time we collapsed, sheets twisted and ruined, the sky outside was starting to pale with early dawn.

Mandy curled against my side, tracing lazy circles on my chest, whispering about round two in the morning, how she’d never had it that good, how she’d wait as long as it took for another night.

I let her talk, half-asleep, smug satisfaction thrumming through every vein like a victory lap.

This was just a preview, the real thing would be done with Kianna after she’ll be bound breathlessly to me and finally become truly mine.

I will make every night worth it, worth the time, sacrifice and everything I’d put in place for her.

The next morning, I woke up alone. Sunlight sliced through the half-open blinds, late morning bright and harsh.

The space beside me was cold. Mandy was gone—no warm body curled against me, no sleepy smile, no note on the pillow. Just her scent lingering on the sheets and a vague irritation that she’d bailed without even a goodbye text.

I stretched, muscles sore in the best way, and padded downstairs in sweatpants. The nannies had left breakfast warming under cloches—scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, fresh fruit with pancakes stacked high.

I piled a plate and sat at the kitchen island, scrolling my phone lazily, grinning at the lack of new drama. The Silence from the Boss since his little "lesson" with Gerald and Gabby and the silence from Mordred after yesterday’s meeting.

Kianna hadn’t posted anything and there was no news or leaks in the school forum. And for the first time in forever the world felt... quiet in the perfect way possible.

Then suddenly my phone buzzed with a new message. I scrolled down the notification bar, it was from an unknown number.

Of course, I’m actually used to it now. I tapped on it, then an Image loaded first—one after another, high resolution and perfectly framed.

Me and Mandy in the tub—her straddling me, head thrown back, water glistening on her skin. Another, my hand between her thighs with her mouth open in a silent cry.

Then some from the bedroom—her on all fours, my hand fisted in her hair. Close-up of my teeth on her shoulder and another was her riding me, breasts bouncing with her face contorted in pleasure.

Videos download next. Short clips with sound—water sloshing, her moans echoing off the room, my growled name, skin slapping skin, her begging "please, Maddox, please."

My fork clattered to the plate, food forgotten. What the actual hell?

Then the final message popped up under it, it read...

"Why are you so stupid Maddox? Celebrating a win when I can ruin you with a single post. Didn’t I tell you not to do anything ? Huh? Be smart, Maddox.

Wait for my word."

I stared at the screen until the words burned into my retinas, rage and ice-cold terror twisting in my gut like knives.

Boss, that bitch has cameras in my room because there’s no motherfucken way he was in here with us.

Or someone had—someone close enough to get perfect angles and perfect sound. Was it that bitch Mandy?

Is that why she left early this morning, just to deliver those tapes.

Oh fuck!!! Gawd, I feel like going crazy right now. That psycho really wants to control everything I do.

The triumph from last night curdled into something sour.

Mandy’s eager body, her worshipful eyes, the hours of distraction have all turned into poison now and reduced to leverage.

I threw my phone on a couch nearby and runned my hands through my already messy hair.

Eight days...

I have eight days until the bond is locked in and I wouldn’t need anyone’s permission or protection anymore and I would find that bastard behind the mask and choke him to death myself.

But until then, I was still his.

And he’d just made damn sure I remembered it.