Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 59: The Stalker in a Mask

Mordred PoV:

The coaster car slammed to a halt at the bottom of the final drop with its brakes hissing like angry snakes.

My stomach was still somewhere up near the top loop, and Kianna’s laughter rang in my ears—high mixed with breathless echoes, the kind of sound that made the whole night worth every risk.

Kristen was grinning too, hair wild from the wind, looking more relaxed than I’d ever seen him tonight. For a few minutes, the three of us had been normal teenagers screaming our lungs out on a ride called the Vortex, forgetting bonds, bosses or birthdays.

We stumbled off the platform on shaky legs, Kianna clutching both our arms for balance as we laughed our way down the exit ramp.

The park lights blurred around us—neon pinks and blues bleeding into one another.

What caught my attention most was the smell in the air, it was thick with the aroma of kettle corn and fried dough whilst music pulsed from every direction, mixing with distant screams and the mechanical clank of rides.

"That was incredible," Kianna said, eyes bright, cheeks flushed from the cold and adrenaline. "I want to do it again."

Kristen chuckled. "Give me five minutes for my soul to catch up."

We all bursted out laughing agreeing to his sentence. I was about to speak when I caught it—the first prickle at the back of my neck.

A guy in a black hoodie, hood up despite the crowds, face half-hidden by a plain black ski mask pulled down to his mouth.

He was leaning against a railing twenty yards behind us, pretending to check his phone. Average height, average build, nothing remarkable except the mask. In December? In an amusement park?

That felt a bit suspicious but I told myself it was nothing. Parks like this normally attract weirdos. Maybe just a Cosplay, Or someone with a cold.

But the prickle didn’t go away.We moved on—Kianna dragged us toward the haunted house walkthrough next.

I glanced back casually. Mask Guy was moving too, keeping pace whilst blending into the flow of people but always the same distance behind.

Coincidence? Maybe.

But some sort of an uneasy feeling started creeping under my skin. Especially after remembering that psycho Boss warnings. But I tried to wave it off, told myself I’m imagining things and let it go.

We queued for the haunted house. The line snaked around fake gravestones and fog machines. I scanned the crowd again. There he was, three groups back, staring at the ground like he was waiting for friends.

My pulse kicked up a notch. What the actual hell?

Inside the haunted house, the lights were low, strobes flashing, actors jumping out with chainsaws and bloody makeup.

Kianna screamed and laughed, grabbing my sleeve every time something lunged.

Kristen played it cool but still jumped when a zombie bride grabbed his ankle. I barely noticed. My eyes kept darting to the shadows, waiting for a masked figure to appear around the next corner.

He didn’t, not inside. But when we spilled out the exit into the cold night air again, there he was—leaning against a food cart, scrolling his phone like he’d been waiting the whole time.

Not coincidence anymore.I felt the weight of the knife in my inner jacket pocket—folding blade, four-inch, razor sharp.

I’d carried it since the Vipers first took me but never needed it for more than cutting rope or opening boxes, but tonight it felt like the only sane thing I’d done.

I didn’t bring a gun because parks like this scanned bags and wanded teens who looked suspicious. A gun would’ve gotten me kicked out or arrested before I even saw Kianna, but knives were safe and barely visible.

We wandered toward the Ferris wheel next, Kianna chattering about how she’d always wanted to ride one at night.

I kept checking over my shoulder. Mask Guy stayed with us—never closer, never farther, always in my peripheral vision like a bad dream you can’t shake.

Kristen noticed too. I caught him glancing back once, brow furrowing.

By the time we reached the Ferris wheel queue, my skin was crawling. He was there again—off to the side, partially hidden by a cluster of balloons.

Enough! I stopped walking...then Kianna and Kristen turned, confused.

"What’s wrong?" Kianna asked, with one eyebrow raised.

I leaned in close so only they could hear. "We’re being followed by that guy in a black hoodie with a ski mask on. He has been on us since the coaster ride."

Kristen’s expression hardened instantly. He scanned the crowd without moving his head. "I see him. Far left, by the balloon vendor."

Kianna’s eyes widened. "Are you sure? Maybe he’s just..."

"He’s been everywhere we’ve been," I cut in quietly. "Same distance, same direction and same gestures. This is definitely not a coincidence."

The word coincidence made Kianna gasp, her face paled instantly. "What do we do?" she muttered.

"We don’t panic," I said, keeping my voice calm even though my heart was hammering. "We should go into a crowded area first, then report to security."

Kristen nodded. "Lead the way."

We moved—casual at first, weaving through the thickest part of the crowd near the main food court. I risked a glance back. Mask Guy was following, pushing through people now,he was no longer pretending.

Shit.

"Run!," I yelled. Then we bolted into the crowd. Kianna’s hand in mine with Kristen on her other side.

People yelled as we shoved past muttering a casual "sorry" and "excuse me"....but we didn’t stop.

The air burned in my lungs as I dragged Kianna with all the strength I had left. The screams from rides, music from food stalls and the pound of footsteps behind us mixed with our gaspy breathing.

I looked back... Mask Guy was running too, hood flapping with his mask still in place. He was fast—closing the gap.

When we hit the central plaza—thick with families, strollers and groups of teens, I spotted the security booth near the entrance, yellow jackets and radios.

"Kianna...security!" I shouted. "Tell them we’re being followed!"

She nodded, breaking away with Kristen toward the booth. I slowed, turning to face the pursuer, hand sliding inside my jacket to grip the knife handle.

But the Mask guy stopped in his tracks. Just... stopped, it was as if someone had ordered him to.

Twenty yards away, in the middle of the crowd, he skidded to a halt. For a second he stared—mask hiding everything but his eyes, dark and unreadable. Then he turned sharply and melted back into the flow of people, disappearing toward the exit.

Gone.

I stood there, chest heaving, hand still on the knife, scanning for any sign he’d doubled back. But nothing.

Kianna and Kristen returned with a security guard—a big guy with a bored expression...who asked questions, took descriptions and promised to "keep an eye out." Standard script. I knew it wouldn’t help.

We left the park soon after, the magic of the night shattered. I walked them to Kristen’s car—he’d driven separately and waited until they were safely inside before heading to my bike.

My phone buzzed as I straddled the seat. It was from an unknown number, it said.

"You’re damn lucky tonight. I’m just in a good mood."

I stared at the screen until the words blurred.

The Boss.

He’d sent the guy or been the guy. Or even watched the whole thing through someone else’s eyes.

Either way, the message was clear: I was being watched and toyed with. But tonight, he’d let us go, because he was in a good mood and good moods don’t last forever.

I started the bike and rode into the dark, the wind colder than before, carrying the taste of fear I couldn’t shake.

Nine days left.

And the game had just gotten deadlier.