Chapter 2

Xena’s POV

Leonard threw his hands up defensively. "That was one time!"

"One time too many," I muttered. I washed my hands and grabbed my camera, picking the best angle.

Click.

"Perfect," I said. The photo would make an excellent addition to my portfolio. I could sense Logan's impatience, his protective big brother vibes radiating across the room. He didn't want to leave me alone with Ryder, that much was obvious.

I'm fine, bro.

I sent through our mental link and put the camera on the counter, slipping on gloves to clean my workstation.

I don't trust him, Logan replied, his mental voice tense.

I sighed, gathering used supplies and tossing them into the proper bins. Ama will be with me, and if you're late again, Dad will kill you.

There was a pause before Logan's grudging response. Fine. I want to know exactly when he leaves. It was an order.

But we both knew those didn't work on me. I smirked. Yes, sir.

The three boys—Logan, Leonard, and Samuel—stood and headed toward the door. Logan paused beside Ryder, tension crackling between them like electricity.

"I don't think I need to tell you to treat my sister appropriately," Logan said, his voice low and threatening.

Ryder's eyes narrowed at the threat, but he remained still, controlled. "I'm not in the habit of disrespecting women."

Logan gave me one last look. "X," he said with a nod, then walked out.

I exhaled slowly once they left, turning to Ryder. "Sorry about that. Have you made a decision?"

I busied myself with organizing supplies, stacking oil containers back into their drawers, trying to look casual despite the sudden tension in the small shop.

"Yes, I'd like to schedule an appointment," Ryder replied, his eyes tracking my movements as I continued to collect scattered parts from the floor and returned them to their proper places.

"Are you the only employee here?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

I walked over to the counter and pulled out my appointment book. "Yes. This shop is mine. Only mine." Pride swelled in my chest. "Maybe I'll expand someday."

Flipping through the calendar, I spotted an opening. "I can fit you in tomorrow at five. We'll see how long you can sit, then schedule future appointments accordingly."

Ryder nodded. "Works for me. I train in the mornings, so that's perfect."

I pulled out a clipboard with forms and handed it to him along with a pen. "Here's what you need to fill out. Leave your paint sketch, and bring cash when you come back with the completed forms."

"What are these forms for?" he asked, flipping through them.

"Saying you understand who I am, what pack I'm from. That you're doing this freely and all the small print stuff," I explained. "This is a legitimate business that I file taxes on. Just the same as the packs do."

He tucked the clipboard under his arm. "Alright. See you tomorrow then."

"Alright," I echoed, stepping out from behind the counter.

The moment Ryder walked out the door, Ama bounced over to me, her green eyes wide with excitement.

"Oh my god, if you don't fuck him, I will!" she exclaimed, fanning herself dramatically.

I snorted and shook my head. Ama was boy-crazy but had her limits. For all her flirting and kissing, she was still saving herself—all talk, little action.

"Logan would kill him," I warned her, though the thought of Ryder's intense gaze made my stomach flutter.

Ama wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Wouldn't that be a dreamy showdown though?"

I laughed despite myself, locking up the shop. Standing outside, I took a moment to admire the storefront: "Road Rebel Garage" in sleek, metallic lettering against matte black.

Ama walked to her motorcycle while I stood in front of mine, shoving keys and other essentials into my backpack wallet before strapping on my helmet. It wasn't until my leg swung over the bike's seat that I noticed Ryder across the street, staring directly at me.

It gave me goosebumps. "Almost," I replied to something Ama had said, though I'd missed half of it.

I knew Ryder could hear us now. The shop's interior was soundproofed, but out here, with his enhanced werewolf hearing, every word was clear.

"Come on," I said to Ama, revving my engine. "I need a run to burn off some energy."

We rode past Ryder, and his eyes never left me. There was something in them I didn't understand, something wild and ancient that called to a part of me I'd kept buried for years.

The roar of our motorcycles died down as Ama and I pulled into the driveway of the my house. My heart sank as I spotted Martha standing on the porch, arms crossed, her face twisted in that familiar scowl that seemed permanently etched onto her features whenever she looked at me.

"Great," I muttered under my breath, pulling off my helmet and shaking out my curls.

Ama shot me a sympathetic glance. "Want me to wait with you?"

Before I could answer, Martha's shrill voice cut through the air. "Where have you girls been?" Her eyes narrowed to slits as she focused on me, completely ignoring Ama's presence.

I squared my shoulders and met her gaze. "Just got back from the shop. We're going for a run, then meeting friends for dinner." I kept my voice steady, refusing to show the irritation bubbling beneath my skin.

Martha is my stepmother. My mother died when I was only three years old, and less than a year after her death, my father mated with Martha. Martha has always been cruel to me, often scolding me without reason. Fortunately, my brother knows what kind of person she is and frequently comforts me. As Logan grows older, he looks more and more like our father, while I increasingly resemble my mom. I don't know if that's the reason, but Martha has always been very rude to me.

Her face flushed with anger. "I don't think so! You haven't completed the list of chores I left for you this morning!"

My temper flared. "I finished everything before I left for school this morning. Did you even bother to check before accusing me?"

The tension crackled between us like electricity before a storm. Martha might be Luna of our pack, but she'd never earned my respect—not after years of her "special treatment."

The front door swung open, and Dad stepped out, followed by Logan, Samuel, and Leonard. The tension in the air immediately thickened as they sensed the confrontation.

"What's going on out here?" Dad's asked in stern voice.

Martha turned to him, her voice dripping with complaint. "She's neglecting her responsibilities again and being disrespectful! This is the last time!"

I muttered under my breath, "That's bullshit."

She instantly flew into a rage, even more furious than before, raising her hand to slap me. "You little brat! What did you just say?" she snapped.

I didn't flinch. I'd learned long ago not to show weakness around her. But Logan was there in an instant, his hand gently but firmly catching Martha's wrist.

"You don't get to hit her," Logan said, his voice deadly calm.