Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 46: It hurts So Good

Mordred’s PoV:

The safe house felt like a tomb that night—cold and empty with the kind of silence that presses in on you until it hurts to breathe.

I paced the living room like a caged animal, boots scuffing the hardwood and the echo mocking me with every step.

The lights were off, but the city glow seeped through the blinds in sickly stripes, casting long shadows that danced like ghosts on the walls.

I couldn’t sit. Couldn’t think straight. All I could do was to replay the scene at Pearl Street over and over, a nightmare loop that clawed at my insides.

Kianna, my Kianna—bursting through that door, her face crumbling like I’d taken a hammer to her heart.

The tears in her eyes, the way her voice broke on "it’s over". Like all the moments we’d shared—the rooftop kisses under starlight, the way she’d laugh when I’d burn breakfast trying to impress her, the nights she’d trace my scars with her fingers like they were maps to my soul, meant nothing. Like I was just another asshole in a long line of disappointments.

I slammed my fist into the wall, the pain exploding up my arm like fire, but it didn’t touch the ache in my chest.

"Fuck!" The word ripped out of me, raw and ragged. She didn’t even let me explain. Didn’t give me a chance to say the call had come from one of the Viper’s girls saying it’s an emergency, only for me to walk into that setup.

That cuff in my hand was from some bullshit prop bet the guys were running. I wasn’t there for them. I wasn’t touching them or flirting with anyone. It was a frame job, clear as day. But she saw what she saw, and now... now she is gone.

Maddox. It had to be that slimy bastard. Who else had the motive to drag her to Pearl, to time it perfectly? He was the one who’d been "changed," playing the reformed ex like a goddamn violin.

Apologizing in hallways, crying for the cameras—bullshit. He wanted her back, and he’d set me up to look like a cheat.

I could see it now: his smug grin behind the scenes, pulling strings like the entitled prick he was.

"I’m going to kill you," I muttered to the empty room, the words tasting like venom on my tongue. "Slowly. For touching what’s mine."

I collapsed onto the couch, head in my hands, the frustration boiling over into something darker. Rage? Or Heartbreak? I couldn’t even tell, but all that I know is, I’m in pain...the kind that doctors can’t even fix.

The kind that makes you want to burn the world down just to feel warm again. Kianna had been my anchor—the one thing in this shitstorm of a life that made sense. And now she’d cut the line, leaving me adrift.

I feel like going crazy right now, "Why do I love you so much Kianna? Why!!!!"

I’ve always told myself I would never cry over a girl, but this particular one has me broken...my heart keeps calling her name.

Tasting water felt bitter on lips, all I did was to help someone in need, and it cost me my relationship.

My phone buzzed on the coffee table, slicing through the silence and the uninvited voices that kept whispering evil in my mind like a knife.

It was an unknown number. I almost ignored it, but something—instinct, maybe...made me pick it up.

Then the text popped up:

"I know you feel very bad right now... especially after watching Kianna slip away into the hands of her ex. I can help you get her back if you trust me."

Attached was a photo of Maddox, tied to a chair in some dim room, face bruised and bloody, beside another guy I didn’t recognize. They looked like they’d been through hell.

My blood ran cold. Who the fuck was this? I typed back fast: "Who is this?"

The response came immediately: "Think about it."

I stared at the screen for almost a minute, the photo was mocking me. Maddox in the state I want to put him in,...beaten and broken.

It should’ve felt good, seeing him like that after what he’d done. But it didn’t. It felt like a setup, another layer in this twisted game. Was this Maddox playing tricks? Hiring someone to fake a kidnapping, make me think he was out of the picture?

Or was it someone else—someone who knew too much about me and Kianna, about the breakup that had just happened 2 days ago? How did they know? Were they watching? The thought sent a shiver down my spine, the safe house suddenly began feeling anything but safe.

I stood, pacing again, my mind racing faster than any bike at Pearl. If this was real, if someone had taken Maddox out... who? And why offer to help me? I texted back: "What do you want?"

But there was no response, the line was not working anymore.

I threw the phone across the room, watching it bounce off the wall with a crack.

"Fuck!" The rage surged again, hot and blind. Why is my life this complicated? Maddox had to be behind this—faking his own kidnapping to screw with my head.

It was his style: dramatic but manipulative. I’d kill him for it. Tear him apart piece by piece until he begged for the end. Kianna would see he was the monster, not me.

But as the night dragged on, doubt crept in like fog. The photo looked real. The bruises and the fear in his eyes. If it wasn’t Maddox... who? And how did they know about the breakup? About her slipping away?

I didn’t sleep. Just stared at the ceiling until dawn broke, gray and unforgiving.

The next morning, I was at school before the gates even opened, leaning against my bike in the shadows of the parking lot.

The place was empty—janitors sweeping leaves, a few teachers pulling in early. I didn’t care. I needed to see her, Kianna.

Even if she wouldn’t talk to me, even if she hated me now, just a glimpse to know she was okay. To remind myself what I was fighting for.

I waited, helmet in hand, eyes on the entrance. Students trickled in, laughing, yawning, oblivious to the war raging in my chest. Then she appeared with Lesley, head down, hoodie up like she was trying to disappear.

My heart lurched, she looked tired and fragile, the spark in her eyes dimmed because of me. Because of some stupid set up, she wouldn’t allow me to explain.

I followed at a distance, sticking to the edges of the quad, heart pounding like I was the one being stalked.

They headed to the cafeteria, Lesley chattering away, trying to pull a smile from her. Kianna nodded, but it was forced. I slipped in after them, grabbing a coffee and finding a table in the corner, out of sight but close enough to watch.

That’s when I saw him. A kid at the table behind them—skinny with big glasses, backpack slung low—fumbling with his phone under the table.

And the camera was aimed right at Kianna, snapping photos like a creep. His face flushed with his eyes darting to make sure no one noticed.

My jaw tightened, my fingers began trembling alongside my coffee cup. Within a few seconds, I was across the room before I thought, grabbing the kid by the collar and yanking him up.

His phone clattered to the table. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" I roared, tightening my grip.

The cafeteria went quiet immediately, then all heads turned in our direction.

The kid sputtered, face paling. "I wasn’t...I was just, just..."

I snatched his phone, smashing it against the table edge with a crack that split the screen. "Taking pictures of her? Without her knowing?"

He swung wildly, but I dodged, my fist connecting with his gut. He doubled over, gasping.

"Mordred!" Kianna’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and painful. She was on her feet, eyes wide with shock and anger. "Stop!"

I froze, fist still raised, the kid wheezing on the floor. "He was..."

"Stalking me?" she finished, voice trembling. "Like you? Being in my space? Following me here?"

The words hit like a gut punch. "Kianna..."

"Should I call the cops?" she whispered, tears glittering in her eyes. "Is that what it’s come to?"

"Do you ever listen to your heart Kianna!.." I shot back out of desperation. "Do you? Don’t I deserve a chance to explain myself to you? Huh...For once can you listen to what I have to say?"

I took a step closer, staring at her dearly, pleading with her to listen to me just this once. For a second, I thought she really will.

Her expression changed a bit, but she quickly masked it with a smile, a painful one that didn’t reach her eyes.

"Listen to you? Listen to my heart? What heart are you talking about Mordred?..." She muttered calmly, taking a step towards me without avoiding eye contact.

"...The one you shattered in that room at Pearl Street? Or the one that nearly died from shock? Tell me....which one?"

"The one that once loved me Kianna, the one that cared enough to listen to me no matter what..the one, the one that once listened to my heartbeat."

I responded, trying to control the tears that are threatening to drop anytime soon.

"I’m tired, tired of being avoided, for always being labeled as the bad guy. For once Kianna let that heart, listen to me speak."

"That heart is dead, Mordred, you killed it.." She uttered, wiping a tear from her cheeks. "And I don’t want to see you near me anymore...this is not a request, but a demand."

I took a step back on instinct, my hands began shivering at my dudes, the fight draining out of me like blood from a wound.

The cafeteria stared, people took their phones out recording, the world began tilting on its axis and for the very first time I let myself cry.

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally fell as I watched the only person I’ve ever loved in my life get pulled away by her friend after telling me to stay away.

She shot me one last glare that could kill, and didn’t look back again.

And in that moment, I wasn’t the hero anymore. I was the villain she’d always feared.