Villainess Marked For Her Alpha Chapter 179: Ana Teaches Me (Part 2)

"Brakes grabbed too aggressive—locks the front wheel easy. Next ti, engine brake smooth with a downshift first." She steadied the bike calm as ever, zero judgnt in those eyes.

"Okay, it was good."

"Straight line drill now—claim your lane on this empty road, eyes far ahead like you’re staring down destiny. Hold throttle steady around 2000 RPM purr. Roll twenty feet clean, stop pretty. You ready, Emily?"

Nerves jangling wild, I kickstarted again—clutch feather-perfect this round. Glided smooth ten feet... then a sneaky slope dipped, and panic twisted the throttle too eager. The bike surged wild, clipping 15mph in a blink, wind whipping hard.

"Too fast—shit, help, Ana!"

I wrenched the brakes mid-wobble, rear fishtailing gravel fireworks as the engine cut again. Tumbled off-balance straight into her waiting arms, helt clonking her shoulder soft.

Ana caught my full weight easy, chuckling warm against my ear. "Whoa there, eager little beaver—throttle ain’t a race car’s pedal, tempting as it feels. Downshift to engine brake first, then feather the actual brakes. You’re fixating feet ahead; lift those eyes to the horizon line. One more shot—commit full this ti, no half-asures."

Blushing nuclear under the helt, I remounted fierce-determined. "No more stalls—watch nail it." Clutch in, starter roar, feather out butter-smooth—rolled even keel, eyes horizon-fixed. Hit steady 10mph... right turn lood innocent. "Okay, right turn ahead—how exact on the lean?"

Ana showed the right turn first, and she kept her voice calm and steady so I wouldn’t panic while we were out there on the quiet road, with only the soft night air, the faint rustle of grass, and the low hum of the motorcycle filling the space around us like a soft background pulse.

"Push the left grip just a little and lean your body to the right," she said, jogging beside at the sa pace so I wouldn’t feel alone while I tried to follow her instructions. "Don’t fight the bike. Let it move with you. Keep the throttle steady, and don’t stare at the wheel."

I nodded even though my stomach was already twisting with nerves, and my fingers tightened around the handlebars while I could feel just how stiff my shoulders had beco.

"I’m trying," I muttered, and even to my own ears my voice sounded small, thin, and uncertain.

"I know you are," Ana said, glancing at with that patient look she used whenever she wanted to settle down. "That’s exactly why I’m telling you to breathe."

I took in a shaky breath and started the turn. For a brief second, it worked, and the bike leaned the way she had shown , which made a tiny spark of confidence flicker in my chest, small but real.

Then panic hit.

I pushed too hard, and the motorcycle swung wider than I ant it to, drifting toward the empty lane with a suddenness that made my stomach drop so fast it felt like the ground had vanished beneath .

"Easy—straighten it out," Ana called at once, her voice sharp enough to cut through my fear without sounding angry.

I reacted too quickly. I jerked the handlebars back and overcorrected again, making the bike wobble hard beneath . The movent scared even more, and I slamd the brakes before I could tip it over. We ca to a rough, jerky stop, the tires scraping loudly against the road.

My chest was pounding so hard I could barely hear my own breathing.

"That was terrifying," I gasped, my whole-body tense and still. "I really thought I was going to drop it."

Ana was beside in an instant, one hand rubbing slow circles on my back while the other steadied the bike so it wouldn’t roll away.

"You didn’t drop it," she said calmly. "You caught it. That matters."

I leaned forward a little, trying to get my breathing under control, but my hands still hurt from gripping the bars so tightly.

"My fingers ache," I admitted, flexing them a little. "I think I’m holding on like I’m trying to crush the handles."

"That’s because you’re nervous," she said, and her tone was gentler now. "You’ll loosen up. Riding gets easier when you stop fighting every little movent."

I looked at her, still embarrassed and shaky. "You make it sound so easy."

"It’s not easy," she said, giving a small smile that was calm and almost amused. "It just gets familiar."

She pointed ahead toward the empty lot. "One more drill. A full circle. Start slow, keep your eyes up, and trust the bike. Don’t race it. Don’t rush it."

I swallowed and nodded, even though my legs still felt weak and my hands still trembled.

"Again," she said a little softer this ti. "You can do it."

I started the bike once more. This ti, the roll forward was smoother, and I could actually feel the difference. I got farther into the turn, and the bike moved in a wide, careful loop. It was still shaky, still uneven, but I kept going anyway, refusing to stop this ti.

Then I wobbled again.

For one awful second, I froze. The bike tipped too far, and I knew I couldn’t force it back without making it worse. So I let it settle into the grass instead of fighting it.

"Ana!" I called, my voice tight with frustration and fear. "I can’t hold it!"

She moved fast, lifting the bike back up easily and checking over in the sa motion, as if making sure I was fine before anything else mattered.

"You’re okay," she said. "That was the smart choice. Better to stop safely than to fight it until you fall hard."

I let out a breath that was halfway between a laugh and a groan. "I feel ridiculous."

"You’re learning," she corrected gently. "There’s a difference."

Then she climbed on behind .

The sudden closeness made go still for a second. Her chest pressed against my back, warm through both our clothes, and her arms ca around mine to cover my hands on the controls. Her hands were firm over mine, guiding my grip with careful, steady pressure that made the bike feel less threatening right away.

"Now I’ll show you," she said quietly, her mouth close to my ear. "Feel how I move the clutch. Feel the throttle. Don’t tense up."

Her voice was low and calm, and sohow that steadied more than anything else had.

"Like this?" I asked quietly, barely trusting my own voice.

"Exactly like that," she said. "Now breathe. Don’t think about falling. Think about balance."

We rolled forward together, slow and smooth this ti. With her guiding , the bike suddenly felt less like sothing wild and impossible, and more like sothing I could actually understand. Her hands shifted mine gently. Her body moved with mine. Every little correction made sense in a way it hadn’t before.

"See?" she murmured. "That’s it. You’re not bad at this. You just needed practice."

I took another breath and leaned into the motion instead of fighting it. The bike moved better, cleaner, and I could feel my confidence start to co back little by little.

"That feels better," I said, surprised by how true it sounded the mont I said it.

"I know," Ana replied. "Because now you’re letting the bike work with you instead of against you."

We did a few more slow loops together. I still made mistakes, and I still wobbled once or twice, but Ana kept correcting patiently every ti. Each round left a little surer of myself, a little steadier on the seat. My heart still hamred, but now it was excitent too, not just fear.

After a few clean circles, she let the engine go quiet and stayed behind for a second, her arms still around my waist like she wasn’t quite ready to let go.

"Better," she said, kissing the side of my head. "Much better."

I laughed softly, tired and shaky but proud of myself too. "I was a ss."

"A little," she admitted with a smile. "But you kept trying. That’s what matters."

She lifted my helt off and ruffled my sweaty hair with a hand that had gone much softer than before.

"Ho now," she said. "Tub first. Then maybe we do this again tomorrow."

I grinned despite how exhausted I was. "Tomorrow, then."

Ana gave one last warm look, like she already knew I’d co back for more, and honestly, she was right.