Claimed By The Alpha, Marked By The Biker-Chapter 8: His dirty Little Secrets

Kianna’s Pov:

It was none other than Kim Robert — the girl everyone called the school’s CCTV camera. She knew every secret, scandal, and whisper that floated through the hallways, and she never failed to deliver the gossip like the evening news.

And now, she was standing right in front of us, arms folded, one brow arched in that "I just caught you red-handed and can’t wait to tell the whole school" kind of way.

I cleared my throat and awkwardly stepped aside, trying to block her view of Mordred, who was still slumped in his chair against the bar walls. "It isn’t what you think, Kim... Mordred and I were just..."

"Just having a little fun?" she cut in, tilting her head and smirking. "Or should I say, being all sneaky and lovey-dovey?"

My eyes widened. "No, Kim, you’ve got it wrong," I said quickly, waving my hands defensively. "There’s nothing romantic going on here. I’m just helping this drunk buddy here get his act together."

I gestured at Mordred, who was dozing off like a toddler in church, his head bobbing backward every few seconds. The sight made me snort, and before long, Kim was chuckling too. For a brief second, we both forgot what we were even arguing about.

Then, just as I was about to stop her, Kims shook her head with that mischievous glint in her eyes, pulled out her phone, and snapped a photo of Mordred mid-doze.

"Perfect for my archive," she said with a smug grin, already typing something into her phone.

"Kim! Don’t you dare..." I lunged forward, but she was already laughing her way down the hall.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, glancing back at Mordred. His head was slumped forward now, lips slightly parted, breathing soft and even.

The mighty Mordred Sinclair, campus heartthrob, idol of the girls and the face of Greek gods reduced to a sleepy mess in a half-open shirt and wrinkled tux.

I bit my lower lip, this is absolutely unbelievable and ridiculous. And I can’t let anyone else see him like this. If Kims had caught us, others might too, and once the wrong eyes saw Mordred like this? The rumor mill would explode.

Leaning closer, I whispered into his ear. "Hey, Mordred... wake up."

He groaned faintly but didn’t move. I gave his shoulder a light shake, then another, and more urgent one. "Come on, superstar, you can’t sleep here."

His eyelids fluttered open, dazed and heavy. "Mm? Where—where am I?" he slurred.

"Not in heaven, that’s for sure," I muttered under my breath. Then I bent down, grabbed his arm, and tried to haul him to his feet. He stumbled, nearly falling on me, and I had to wrap an arm around his waist to steady him.

"Easy... careful," I whispered, glancing nervously around. The prom room was still dim, scattered with leftover balloons and faint music leaking from a nearby speaker. No one seemed to have noticed us yet.

Good, Now let’s sneak out before it’s too late. And perfectly on time, I remembered a back door my roommate, Lesley, had once mentioned—a service exit the staff used to sneak out unnoticed. It wasn’t far from the refreshment table.

"Okay, Mordred," I murmured, tightening my grip around him, "we’re taking the secret route tonight okay."

Half-dragging, half-guiding him, I led him toward the back of the hall, our footsteps soft against the polished floor.

My heart pounded every time I heard laughter echoing from the corridor, but we made it—slipping out through the creaky metal door into the cool night air.

Once outside, I let out a shaky breath and adjusted his arm around my shoulders. He leaned heavily against me, eyes barely open.

"You owe me for this," I said quietly, waving at a taxi that had just pulled up by the curb.

He mumbled something incoherent, maybe my name, before collapsing again against the seat when I helped him in.

I gave the driver his address, the one I once heard from a classmate a few weeks before we even met. Thank goodness I wasn’t the type who forgets stuff easily.

As the taxi sped off, I glanced at him again.The city lights reflected softly on his face, calm and unguarded for once.

I exhaled deeply."You really shouldn’t trust people so easily," I whispered, even though he was already fast asleep.

Still, deep down, I knew why I was doing this. He once helped me overcome those bullys.So this was me... returning the favor.

By the time the taxi stopped in front of his apartment, the night had gone quiet, only the low hum of crickets and the distant city buzz filled the air.

I paid the driver quickly, then turned to Mordred, who was still slumped against the seat, head tilted to the side like a child after a sugar crash.

"Alright, sleeping beauty," I sighed, tugging at his arm. "We’re home."

He didn’t move, seriously ? I groaned, then got out and went around to open his door. After a minute of struggle and several failed attempts to balance both his weight and my pride,I managed to pull him out.

He leaned on me, his body was warm and heavy as he kept murmuring something that sounded a lot like my name.

"Yeah, yeah, it’s me," I muttered breathlessly. "Just focus on not collapsing before we reach your door."

Getting him inside was another battle. His housekeeper had clearly gone to bed, and the front lights were dimmed. With one hand, I fumbled with his keys, the other arm wrapped around his waist to keep him upright.

Gosh this must be the worst day of my life. I’ve never struggled desperately like this before despite being constantly bullied by Maddox.

The moment we stepped inside, he stumbled again. I caught him just in time, both of us landing awkwardly on the couch.

"God, you’re heavier than you look," I panted, brushing my hair off my face.

And before I could sneak out of the room, his phone screen lighted up inside his left pocket. I shouldn’t have picked up or even looked at it, but curiosity got the best of me.

It was a message from an unsaved number which says. "All the bodies have been gathered in the warehouse, where the heck are you still at?"

"Goddamnit!" I gasped and quickly placed the phone down. Bodies?.. As in dead bodies? Wow, he does have a reputation for being awfully evil but I never imagined he could go this far.

Before he could stir again, I slipped out of his room with my heart thudding. And it got even worse when I also received a message on my phone from an unknown number.

"You can run.. but you can’t hide, what were you doing tonight with him in his home?"

I froze on the steps, fingers trembling as the streetlight kept flickering dramatically above me.

And for the first time that night, I wished I never helped Mordred Sinclair in the first place.