Christmas with my Off-Limits Alpha (Feuding Hearts Christmas)

9. Ava Mooney

Ava Mooney

Chapter Nine

T he familiar scent of oil and leather fills my nostrils. My fingers trace the smooth curves of the first motorcycle I ever built. This is where I belong.

I look around Moon Light Garage and realize being here, surrounded by the tools and machines that have been part of my life since childhood, is like eating tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich on a cold winter day. Comfort for my soul.

My dirt bike gleams under the fluorescent lights, freshly pulled from storage and lovingly restored to its former glory. Joe and I tuned every component to perfection in the past few days, though I caught him muttering under his breath about my reckless stunts more than once.

The whine of the grinder Joe’s using to take down a weld on a handlebar replacement is obnoxiously loud, and I don’t mind it a bit. My Dad’s cursing up a storm as he makes a mess changing the oil on his bike.

Just another Sunday in the Mooney family. Yes. This is where I belong.

Distant Christmas music from the town square fills the sudden silence as Joe cuts off the grinder. Pulling a relatively clean grease rag from my pocket, I wipe my hands while walking around my bike. Leaning against the seat, I suck in a deep breath. Might as well get this over with.

“I’m racing.” My is voice steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “In the Holiday Race.” The announcement echoes through the work bay, causing both Dad and Joe to freeze in their tracks.

Dad’s hand instinctively moves to his sheriff’s badge, a nervous tick he’s developed over the years, while Joe nearly drops the wrench he’s holding. The tension in the garage thickens like engine grease, but I stand my ground, one hand resting protectively on my bike’s polished tank.

Dad’s face hardens, his jaw clenching. “Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous, Ava.”

I bristle at his words. Always the overprotective father, never seeing me for who I am, what I’m capable of.

“I’m not asking for permission.” Meeting his gaze head-on, I keep my tone even but firm. “I’m telling you what I’m doing.”

Joe steps forward, his blue eyes clouded with concern. “Ava, think about this. The Iron Wolves will be there. They race dirty. This year’s race is guaranteed to be a knock em out bully-fest.”

I make a face at my brother and roll my eyes. “I’m well aware of the risks, Bro Joe. Racing is in my blood. And I won’t back down because a bunch of bully bikers are making veiled threats.”

My fingers curl into fists at my sides. No more hiding. The thought echoes in my mind, fueling my determination.

“And neither will you. You’re riding. Well, so am I.” My voice gains strength as I continue. “I have to do this. To prove to you, to the town, to myself, that I’m not the lost fuckup you all disowned.” I gesture vaguely at myself, thinking about the Kitsuné abilities I am learning to control.

Joe’s expression softens slightly, but the disapproval remains. “You have nothing to prove, Ava.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” My temper snaps, frustration bubbles up inside me. “I have everything to prove. You. Dad. And everyone else look at me and see a liability.”

Joe grins. He knows when he’s beat, always has known when to stop pushing me and sit back and watch me fight with Dad. This time I’ve already won because I don’t give a damn what Dad thinks or wants. Sorry, Mom. Forgiving him is a long time in the future.

“Well, Little Sis. I’m not going to sit back and let you win. I’m intend to take that trophy. It’s too big for you to lift, anyway.”

I leap at him and punch his arm. “You big bully. If you give anything less than your best, I’ll kick your butt.”

He grabs me and tosses me in the air. We’re both laughing as I land lightly on my feet.

“I forbid it, Ava.” Dad moves toward me, his face is flushed a bright red and carries an expression that is a portrait titled pissed.

Business as usual when it comes to him and me.

“You are not racing. Put that bike back under the tarp where it belongs.”

I return to my old dirt bike, running my hand along the handlebars. It’s an extension of me, a part of who I am. Just like my Kitsuné nature.

“I am doing this.” I grab hold and toe tap the kickstand. Rolling the bike out of the service area, I call back over my shoulder in a tone that leaves no room for argument, “Add me to the family team. Or not. I’ll sponsor myself if you don’t want me.”

The tension in the garage becomes bearable the further I get away from them. I feel their emotion. Dad’s worry. Joe’s protective brother instinct. Beneath their knee-jerk reactions, I sense a growing flicker of… respect? Maybe. I’ll take it.

“The Iron Wolves won’t play fair,” Joe warns. His voice follows me out the door as I park the bike and tarp it for the night.

I meet his gaze as I return. “Neither will I.”

I need to prove I can handle this—to myself. The thought steels my resolve, even as a tendril of doubt snakes through my mind. The shadow of the Iron Wolves lingers in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the danger ahead. This race could change everything.

But isn’t that exactly what I want? Change?

Dad shakes his head and storms off, pealing rubber with his cruiser as he leaves the parking lot. Joe and I look at each other and bust out laughing before settling down and turning our attention to the customer bikes waiting for work.

The forest whispers around me as I weave through the trees, my feet barely touching the ground. I’m faster now, more agile. Each day, I feel the Kitsuné within me growing stronger, more in tune with my human side.

Liam’s voice cuts through the stillness. “Again, Ava. Push harder.”

I grit my teeth, forcing my legs to pump faster. The world blurs into streaks of green and brown. My lungs burn, but I embrace the pain. It’s a reminder that I’m alive, that I’m becoming more than I ever thought possible.

As I round the final bend, Liam waits, arms crossed, his blue eyes intense. “Better,” he says, a hint of approval in his voice. “But you’re holding back.”

I bristle at his words. “I’m giving it everything I’ve got.”

He steps closer, and the air between us is charged. “No, you’re not. You’re babying your Kitsuné side. Stop being afraid of breaking it. Embrace it, Ava. Let it flow through you. Let your Kitsuné nature strengthen and lend its power to your human body.”

His words hit home, and I feel a flicker of irritation. “Easy for you to say. You’ve had years to get used to your wolf. I’m still figuring this out.”

Liam’s expression softens. “I know. That’s why we’re here.” He reaches out, his hand hovering near my arm. “Remember? Now go again. This time, don’t think. You are in charge. Feel your power and let it fill your need.”

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes to reach for the part of me that’s always simmering beneath the surface. The Kitsuné stirs, and I let it rise.

When I open my eyes, the world looks different. Sharper. More vivid. I hear the heartbeat of a rabbit hiding in the underbrush, smell the sweet decay of fallen leaves.

I run.

This time, it’s different. I’m not fighting my Kitsuné nature; I’m flowing with it. Liam’s right. The forest becomes a blur as I weave through the trees with inhuman speed and grace.

As I skid to a stop in front of Liam, I’m breathless but exhilarated. A grin spreads across my face. “How was that?”

Liam’s eyes are wide with surprise and… Pride? “Incredible,” he breathes. “In-fucking-credible.”

His praise sends a warm flutter through my chest. I’m getting stronger. Faster. The sensation of my Kitsuné abilities flowing through me is intoxicating.

Liam’s gaze catches mine and an intimate emotion stirs. Why does he have to be so damn irresistible... I shake the thought away. Focus on the race, Ava. Focus on proving yourself. Focus on keeping the Iron Wolves from winning.

“Let’s work on your shifting now." Liam’s voice is slightly husky. “You need to change forms quickly, seamlessly.”

I nod, ignoring the way my skin tingles when he steps closer. “Show me.”

For the next hour, we practice. Liam guides me through the process, showing me how to shift fast on the fly, and to control partial shifts to bring out claws while staying human.

As the sun casts long shadows through the trees, hanging low in the sky during this rare late afternoon practice session, Liam calls an end to our lesson. “You’ve made astonishing progress, Ava.” His voice is warm with approval.

“Thanks to you.” My voice matches his, softer than I intended. I beam at him, feeling a surge of pride which turns into desire the longer I look into his face.

We stand in the moment, eyes locked, the air between us thick with unspoken words and feelings. Every time he touches sends a jolt through me. Again and again, I push down the emotion to maintain my concentration. I am hypersensitive to him now, and am not sure I have it in me to continue pushing these feelings aside.

Liam takes a step closer, and I hold my breath. One hand reaches up, cupping my cheek as his other grasps me at the waist and pulls me to him. The roughness of his palm sends a shiver down my spine. I lean into his touch, my eyes fluttering closed.

His breathing is hard, ragged, warm on my face. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear and clears his throat, reluctance heavy in his voice as he speaks. “We should discuss tomorrow’s training. We have only a few more sessions before the race.”

Slowly opening my eyes, I nod, leaning back slightly but keeping my hands firmly planted on his broad shoulders, not quite ready to break our connection.

“Right, the race. Tomorrow’s session.” The words come out breathier than I intend, betraying how affected I am by his closeness.

I lean in, brushing my lips against his stubbled cheek, lingering longer than necessary, inhaling his essence. “Thank you for doing this.” My breath tickles his ear. His sharp intake of air sends tingles down my spine, and his fingers flex against my waist.

As we reluctantly part, the raw desire burning in his eyes matches the fire racing through my veins, a silent promise of more to come. My body screams at me to stay, to explore this magnetic tension between us, but we both know we need to focus on the challenges ahead.

And right now, getting back to town in time for the lighting of the Christmas Tree is a top priority… Even if every fiber of my being wants to stay here in this moment, wrapped in his warmth.

I force myself to take another step back, though my hands trail down his arms, not quite ready to break contact completely.