Taken by the Outcast Alpha (Whispers of Fate)

3. Finn

Chapter three

Finn

I curse under my breath, my mother's lessons on chivalry echoing in my head. Damn it all to hell. This is what I get for being a good Samaritan.

The woman in front of me clearly has no idea what she's doing with her car. Her hazel eyes are wide, darting between me and the smoking engine. I can smell her anxiety, mixed with a scent that's... oddly intriguing. Hard to ignore, even as I tell myself to do just that.

"Look, miss," I say, trying to keep my voice gentle. "I hate to break it to you, but even if we had coolant, I think the damage is already done."

She bites her lip, and I force myself to look away. Focus, Finn.

I glance back at my bike, gleaming in the fading sunlight. Not a single car has passed since I stopped. Just my luck. I'd been reveling in the empty road, enjoying the solitude. Now here I am, stuck in the middle of nowhere with a damsel in distress.

Murphy's law, you bastard, I think. This is what I get for tempting fate.

The irony isn't lost on me. Here I am, an exiled Alpha, carrying an artifact of immense power, and I'm playing roadside mechanic. If my pack could see me now...

I run a hand through my hair, considering our options. We're miles from the nearest town, and night's falling fast. I can't just leave her here.

"Alright," I say, turning back to her. "We need to figure out a plan. You got anyone you can call?"

I watch as fear flashes in the woman's eyes at the mention of calling someone. Fuck. I’m smart enough to know what that means. I used to be Alpha—I’ve seen that look thousands of times before, been the one to face what was behind it for my pack. She's in trouble. Now I know I can't leave her here alone.

"How much stuff have you packed?" I ask, already formulating a plan.

"Not much. One bag," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, decision made. "Get it and let's go. The nearest town is a bit of a drive." I pull out my phone to let Derek know I'm running late.

She looks around her car, then at my bike for the first time. Her eyes widen. "Go? On that?"

I quirk an eyebrow, waiting to see what she'll say. Part of me hopes she'll refuse - it would be easier, safer. But another part, a part I thought I'd buried deep, wants her to say yes.

She squares her shoulders, a determined glint in her eye. "First time for everything, right?"

I feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. She's got guts, I'll give her that.

I watch as she grabs her bag and pulls out her phone, tapping the screen a few times. "So I can tell the tow truck where to get the car," she says absently.

Smart thinking. I'm impressed, despite myself. This woman is full of surprises.

“Not messaging someone my description, just in case I’m a murderer, then?”

She laughs quietly. “There’s that, too.”

I pause for a moment, wondering if she’s joking just as much as I was. In case she isn’t, I say, “If it makes you feel safer, I can show you my ID. You can take a picture of me, of my license plate. Whatever you’d like.”

Her gaze flicks up to mine for a long moment, and I watch as her fingers trace over the charms on the bracelets on her other wrist absently. “No,” she says after a long moment. “That’s okay.”

As she finishes up, I wonder what I'm getting myself into. An exiled Alpha, carrying a powerful artifact, picking up a stranger on the side of the road. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

But as I look at her, something stirs inside me. A protective instinct I thought I'd left behind with my pack. I push the feeling down, reminding myself that I can't afford attachments. Not now. Not ever again.

I secure her bag on top of the saddlebags using straps I keep for emergencies.

"Ready?" I ask, straddling my bike and patting the seat behind me.

She walks up to the bike warily. My instincts scream at me not to get involved, but something about this woman pulls at me.

"I'm Sage," she says, her voice steadier now.

I hesitate, weighing the risks. Giving my name means creating a connection, however small. But refusing would only make things more awkward for the ride ahead.

Sage raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "If I'm going to have my hands around your waist while we drive to the next town, the least you can tell me is your name."

I can't help it. A chuckle escapes me, surprising us both. It's been a long time since anyone's made me laugh.

"Fair point," I concede, taking her hand. Her skin is soft, but I feel calluses—not a stranger to hard work, then. "Finn. Finnegan Silverclaw."

A spark of recognition flashes in her eyes at my last name. Shit. I brace myself for questions I can't answer, but she just nods.

"Nice to meet you, Finn," she says, climbing onto the bike behind me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and I stiffen involuntarily. It's been too long since I've been this close to anyone. "You okay?" Sage asks, her breath warm against my ear.

I nod, not trusting my voice. The bike roars to life beneath us, and I feel Sage jump slightly, tightening her grip.

I smirk. "Just hold on tight and lean with me when we turn. You'll be fine."