Wednesday, August 6th 2031
This is an excerpt from my upcoming book, and isn’t polished per se; it may vary slightly in the end, but the heart of it will remain the same.
The moment Layla swung her leg over the bike, something inside her clicked back into place. The engine purred beneath her like a beast waking from slumber, the vibration rolling up through her thighs, into her spine, settling deep in her chest. Two days. Two fucking days without it.
She cracked the throttle, the engine snarling as if it had missed her just as much. The sound was alive, a perfect harmony to the pounding rhythm of her pulse. She kicked up the stand and launched forward, the rear wheel screaming against the pavement as she peeled out of the parking lot and into the city streets.
She was gone before the light even thought to change.
Sanction blurred around her—neon lights streaking across her visor, the chaotic sprawl of cracked pavement and towering signs melting into a smear of color. Wind howled against her, a sharp bite against her fur, but she welcomed it. She rolled the throttle harder, the roar of the bike vibrating through her ribcage as she darted between lanes, slicing through traffic with razor precision.
She didn’t think. She felt.
A gap in traffic—she surged through, missing a side mirror by inches.
A red light—fuck it. She blew past it, catching a honk, maybe some shouted curses behind her.
She didn’t care.
Her blood was singing, adrenaline threading through her veins like fire. The city was too small, too slow—she wanted to run, to stretch her legs in a way she hadn’t been able to since the bike was ripped from her. Hellhounds weren’t meant to be still. They were made for the chase, for the hunt, for the raw joy of motion.
And right now? The city was her hunting ground.
She leaned low, taking a sharp corner, her knee nearly kissing the pavement as she carved through the turn. The rear tire skidded, just for a breath, but she pulled it back with instinct, grinning sharp as a wolf as she straightened out.
She could feel it—the heartbeat of the machine, syncing with hers. Every twist of the throttle was like dragging claws through silk. Smooth. Effortless. This wasn’t just riding. This was being.
The stretch ahead of her opened up—a long, empty avenue lined with shattered streetlights, the remnants of an old highway leading toward the edge of the city. A dead zone, a place few traveled at this hour.
Perfect.
Layla grinned, baring fangs, and gunned it.
The engine roared as she pushed the bike from reckless into self-destructive.
Eighty. Ninety. One hundred.
The wind became a wall, pressing against her, daring her to let go. To lose control. To see what happens.
“No chains. No Fear. No looking back…”
For a moment, she considered it. What if she just... let the bike take her? Let the speed swallow her whole? Would she care? Would she feel relief?
If I fall, let me go. Bury me in fire and smoke…
The thought turned in her mind. It had barely settled before instinct kicked in. No. Not like this. Not today.
With a growl, she forced herself back into focus, gripping the handlebars tighter, owning the ride instead of letting it own her. The front wheel lifted slightly as she shifted gears, the power surging through her, carrying her forward, forward, faster—
A sharp curve loomed ahead.
She barely reacted, leaning into it at the last second, feeling the tires grip the asphalt by sheer force of will. The world tilted, the sensation so perfect, so intoxicating, it stole her breath.
Then she was through it, rocketing out the other side with a bark of laughter tearing from her throat. She was alive, the city was hers, and no one—no one—could take this from her.
By the time she rolled up to the mall, the ride had burned through just enough of her restlessness to let her breathe. She killed the engine, the silence that followed almost deafening in contrast. Her hands were steady, her pulse was high but steady.
She swung her leg off the bike, stretching like a predator shaking out its limbs after a run. Kallista was already waiting, watching with a knowing smirk.
"You look like you just fucked the highway," Kali mused, emerald eyes glinting. "Was it good for you?"
Layla smirked, running a hand through her tangled mane. "Would’ve been better if I didn’t have to stop."
Kali chuckled. "Well, darling, that’s just life, isn’t it? Can’t outrun everything forever."
Layla exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "No," she muttered. "But I can try."
🔗 Take me there! (Back to Main Page)
🎵 Wildheart & Gasoline (OST)