Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 61: The Doubtful Behavior

Kianna’s PoV:

I flopped back onto my bed in the dorm, the mattress creaking under me like it shared my exhaustion.

The room was dimly lit by the string lights Lesley had strung up for "cozy vibes," casting a soft glow over the posters on the wall—band flyers, motivational quotes and a collage of photos from better days.

My helmet hair was a mess, and my cheeks still stung from the cold wind of the ride home in Kristen’s car. Mordred had followed with his bike to make sure I got back safe, waving from the parking lot before heading off.

Tonight had been... magical, in a way I hadn’t expected. The circus stunts, the amusement park rides, the laughter that felt genuine for the first time in weeks.

But now, alone in the quiet, the high was fading, and the shadows were creeping back in.

I pulled off my boots and tossed them by the door, then sank against the pillows, staring at the ceiling.

The chase at the park replayed in my mind like a bad movie on loop. That guy in the black hoodie and ski mask—average build, nothing standout except the way he purposefully moved.

At first, Mordred had spotted him lingering near the coaster exit, but we’d brushed it off. Parks are full of weirdos, right? But then he was there after the haunted house, and again by the Ferris wheel. Always the same distance, always just out of clear view.

Who was he? And why us? Why follow three random teens having a night out? It didn’t feel random.

Not with the way Mordred’s face had gone pale when he whispered, "We’re being followed."

The concern in his eyes hadn’t started at the park—it had been there earlier, at the circus, when he’d zoned out for a second during the tightrope act, like he’d heard something no one else had.

He was hiding something. I could feel it in the way he’d tensed up, the way his hand had hovered near his jacket pocket like he was ready for a fight.

Mordred had always been the quiet protector type, but tonight there was an edge to it.

What wasn’t he telling me? And why? We’d just started mending things—the ride, the laughs, the old spark flickering back. If he was keeping secrets now, after everything...

Then it feels he’s biting more than he could chew. I sat up rubbing my temples, but my mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

The bond was eight days away—moonrise on the 22nd would change everything. Was the stalker connected to that? Maddox sending someone to scare me back to him? Or something worse—pack enforcers, lycan rivals? Kristen had mentioned old grudges from our exile.

Or maybe it was the woman in red from the hotel, testing me? Freedom has a price. The card was still in my drawer, untouched.

Goddamit Kianna, your life is indeed a rollercoaster. It’s never peaceful...always problems and trouble crawls their way towards me.

Before I could spiral deeper, the door banged open. Lesley burst in, shaking snow from her hair, her cheeks looked flushed from the cold.

She was carrying a takeout bag from the campus café, probably her usual latte and muffin combo and her phone was already out, screen glowing.

"Ki! Oh my God, those pictures from the circus!" She waved her phone at me, eyes wide with excitement. "The fire jugglers? The guys on the wall thing? It looks epic! When are we going? I’m tagging along next time—no excuses. I need that in my life."

I forced a smile, pushing the shadows back for a second. "It was pretty wild.... you’d Love it, the tightrope over flames? Insane."

She dumped her bag on her desk and flopped onto her bed, scrolling through the pics I’d sent her.

"These daredevils—hot or what? And you with the cotton candy face? Adorable. Wait, who’s the other guy in the selfie? Not Mordred—the tall one with the green eyes?" she squealed, pointing the screen at me.

"Kristen," I replied with a lazy smirk. "Old friend from... before. We ran into him randomly at the park."

"Before, like pack before?" She lowered her voice, even though we were alone. Lesley knew bits—enough to not pry too deep. "He’s cute. Double date vibes?"

I laughed, but it came out strained. "Not exactly."

She must’ve caught the edge in my voice because she set her phone down, brow furrowing. "Okay, spill. What happened? You look like you saw a ghost."

I hesitated, then told her. The amusement park chase. The masked guy who followed us from ride to ride.

Mordred spotted him first, the way we’d bolted through the crowd, hearts pounding, until we hit security and he vanished. Lesley’s eyes grew wider with every word.

"Holy shit, Ki. That’s terrifying." She hugged her knees to her chest, mirroring my pose. "You think it was some creep? Or... targeted?"

"I don’t know," I admitted. "Mordred seemed... prepared. Like he expected trouble. He had this look, Les. Concerned, but not surprised."

She chewed her lip. "Something’s up. With everything—Maddox’s friends dead, the videos, now this? It’s like a bad thriller. You should tell someone. Campus security? Or... I don’t know, the police?"

I shook my head. "And say what? A guy in a mask followed us at a park? No proof, no harm done. They’d laugh us off."

"But it’s creepy as hell." She reached over and squeezed my hand. "Promise me you’ll be careful? No more solo nights out. And text me if anything feels off."

"I will." But even as I said it, the worry gnawed deeper.

We tried to shift to lighter stuff—Lesley ranting about her bio exam, me half-listening while scrolling memes but my mind kept drifting back to the mask guy and the chase.

Mordred had a hidden knife in his jacket, I’d felt the outline when we hugged goodbye. What was he into? And how did it connect to me?

The rest of the night blurred into wondering. Lesley crashed early, her soft snores filling the room, but I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, questions piling like snow outside.

Who was the stalker? Maddox’s doing, to scare me back? Or the weirdo Mordred had mentioned in passing once, some shadow from his past? Or something tied to the bond—pack hunters enforcing fate?

Sleep came fitful, haunted by dreams of golden eyes and masked figures in the fog.

The next morning dawned gray and heavy, snow blanketing the campus like a shroud.

I dragged myself out of bed, muscles sore from the rides, head pounding from lack of sleep.

Lesley was already up, blasting her playlist while brushing her teeth. "Morning, sunshine! Coffee runs before class?"

"God, yes." I threw on jeans and a sweater, tied my hair back, and we headed out.

The campus paths were slushy, students bundled against the wind, hurrying to Class.

I’ve missed this feeling a lot, especially remembering my first winter season over here, my first day at school.

It was awkward at first, without friends and the only one I was familiar with was Maddox. I knew him because of our parents’ reunion parties.

But now this school feels like a haunted area I need to escape. Kristen’s text came as we grabbed lattes from the café cart.

"Good morning. How was the rest of your night? Hope you had enough rest?"

I smiled despite myself. Enough rest? In this pressure season? Sounds like a joke.

But either way I replied in a way that would avoid any drama.

Just a quick, "It was good, tired but worth it. And you?

Quick reply: "Same... Let me know if you want to hang again soon. Or talk about... stuff."

Talk about stuff? He meant the offer about the lycan ways to break the bond. I haven’t given him any response yet about it. I can’t even decide what I want to do because everything feels too much for me.

I typed back: "Will do, thanks again and have a nice day."

I didn’t want to discuss all those awkward moments yesterday and make him think it was much greater than he thinks.

I just turned off my screen to enjoy my drink then went on with my day.

School was a slog. Classes blurred into one long drone: teachers lecturing on finals prep, reminding us the big tests were six months out.

Graduation loomed like a distant promise—after that, no more high school halls, no more lockers and lunch lines.

College apps were due soon; I’d half-heartedly sent mine to local unis, but the bond made planning feel pointless.

What if I woke up on the 23rd craving Maddox like air? What if the woman in red’s price was too high?

In the hallway between periods, I spotted Mordred at the lockers. He looked wrecked—pale face, dark circles like bruises under his eyes with his hair disheveled.

He was shoving books into his bag with mechanical motions, like he was running on fumes.

"Hey," I said, approaching slowly.

He looked up, surprise flickering before a tired smile. "Hey. Are you okay after last night?" he asked.

"I’m fine...you look like you haven’t slept." I responded, nodding towards his face.

He rubbed his neck with a deep breath.

"Rough night...I couldn’t shut my brain off. Everything was falling apart on my side."

Falling apart? I didn’t want to ask him anything to make it even worse. I just smirked and switched topics.

" Have you eaten?"

"Nah, not yet...I’m not hungry." He responded.

"Come on." I tugged his sleeve. "Let go grab some food at the cafeteria, you can’t do that to yourself."

He hesitated, then nodded. We walked side by side, the hallway buzz cutting around us. It felt almost normal—until we pushed through the cafeteria doors and spotted Maddox.

He was at a table with his remaining crew, tray loaded with the usual: burger, fries and energy drinks.

The bruises from last time had faded to shadows on his face, offcourse it would, he’s an Alpha afterall. He looked up as we entered, eyes locking on me.

Then... nothing. Just a small, casual smile—like we were acquaintances passing in the hall. No lingering stare or approach.

He just turned back to his friends, laughing at something Tyler said. I froze.

"That was... weird, that wasn’t the usual Maddox we knew."

Mordred tensed beside me. "Yeah...not like him, definitely putting on a show."

I stared at his direction for a breath moment and then brushed it off. We grabbed sandwiches, juices and chips.

Then sat at a corner table to eat. But my appetite was gone. Maddox ignoring me? After weeks of desperate texts and pleas? It felt wrong, almost like he was planning something.

"Think he’s given up?" I asked Mordred quietly. "Because if he has, I would’ve thank goodness. Miracles do happen after all."

Mordred shook his head. "No. He thinks he’s already won because of the bond."

Won? The word hung between us, heavy as lead. He thinks his evil wishes would be finally granted because of that stupid mating bond?

He has no idea, in eight days...he would find out how desperate I am to stay away from a monster like him.