Page 16 of Alpha's Runaway Mate

Just as I stepped outside the diner, pulling my jacket over the grey V-neck T-shirt and black jeans I wore, I spotted the familiar car pull over in the driveway. I could never forget that faded gray truck Isolde owned; we’d had our share of mischief in that vehicle.

She didn’t seem to notice me right away as she was struggling to remove the car keys from the ignition, so I announced my presence by saying, “You might want to oil that.”

With the way she froze, I could tell she recognized my voice. How could she not? Isolde had been my best friend since we were five. We’d gotten acquainted by having the same babysitter.

At first, we were rivals, vying for the babysitter’s reward—our favorite candy. But we’d soon stopped fighting over candy and bonded over our love of food, sparring, hunting, and other untraditional girl stuff. She was the only one who matched my “weird” energy, which was why we’d been inseparable. That is until I left town.

Slowly, she turned around and stepped away from the car. Recognition flashed in her eyes. But there was something else, something I couldn’t identify. Something I didn’t want to identify, because it would mean that I’d lost my best friend. Her expression was cold, eyes hard, and I felt a pang of hurt that I hadn’t expected.

“It’s been a long time,” I said, trying to break the ice.

She didn’t seem surprised to see me, indicating she must have known I was back. She also didn’t seem enthusiastic about my presence. Isolde remained silent, just staring at me.

“Um, how have you been?” I ventured, realizing that a tiny hammer wouldn’t suffice for this situation. I needed an axe to break the ice.

Thankfully, she answered. “I’ve been well.” But her tone was curt. Her gaze averted as she shoved her hands into the pocket of her jacket.

I had imagined this meeting playing out differently—the relief on her face when she saw me, her smile as she moved to give me a big hug. And maybe some tears. But none of those things happened. Instead, the energy was low and heavy.

The revving of a motorcycle cut through the awkward silence, yanking us out of the uncomfortable standoff. The man on the motorcycle killed the ignition and when he took off his mask, I recognized him instantly. He’d been the one who interrupted andsavedme from making a grave mistake by kissing Kaine the other night.

He hooked the helmet under one arm and approached us, a smirk on his face.

“Ladies,” he greeted with a small nod, but his gaze rested on me as he extended his arm, saying, “I don’t think we’ve officially met. Dominic Wilder, Kaine’s cousin,” he said.

Dominic was the kind of man who turned heads without trying. His dark hair, tousled like he’d just come through a windstorm, framed a face that was both sharp and striking—strong jawline, high cheekbones, and a hint of stubble that added to hisrugged appeal. His deep-set gray eyes, with a glint of mischief, seemed to take in everything at once, and the smirk on his lips suggested he was always a step ahead of the conversation. Clad in a fitted leather jacket that hugged his broad shoulders, he carried himself with an effortless confidence that bordered on arrogance.

“Lyra Winters,” I said, shaking his hand.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard about you. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“You, too,” I simply said with a half-hearted smile, averting my gaze to Isolde.

Dominic turned to Isolde. “Are you ready to go?”

Isolde nodded, dragging her eyes away from me as she headed back to her car.

“Where are you two going?” I asked.

“Hunting,” Dominic answered.

Before I could think it through, I found myself saying, “I’d like to come.”

Isolde shot me a sharp look, and in an equally sharp tone, she said, “No.” It was apparent she didn’t want me around.

Dominic gave her a gentle nudge. “Why not? The more the merrier, right?”

“Dominic,” Isolde warned, her voice tight.

He brushed it off, turning back to me, a bright smile on his face. “She can be a little cranky sometimes, but you should know that by now.”

I found myself laughing, but Isolde’s straight face cut my laughter short. Dominic tossed me a helmet and I caught it instinctively.

“You can ride with me.”

I looked between him and his sleek black motorcycle. He winked at me and nodded for me to hop on. I did, but not before casting one look to Isolde, hoping she’d give in. Instead, she rolled her eyes and got into her car, zooming off without a word.

“I’m sure she’ll come around,” Dominic said as I settled onto the motorcycle behind him.

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