Page 12 of Wolf at the Door

He stills, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, I thought he might deflect, might try to dismiss what I’d seen. But then he sighs, his expression softening.

“I’m exactly what my name says I am,” he confesses quietly. “A wolf.”

My breath catches, and I stare at him, trying to process what he was saying. “You mean…like, a shifter?”

He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I’m not just a man, Bella. I’m part of a pack. A real pack.”

The words hit me like a freight train, and I sit up, pulling the sheet around me as my mind races. This couldn’t be real. It didn’t make sense. And yet…it explained so much. The way he moved, the way he looked at me, the way he’d protected me with an almost animalistic intensity.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, my voice breaking.

“Because I didn’t want to scare you,” he says, sitting up beside me. “And because I didn’t know if you were ready to know.”

I look at him, my heart pounding. He is dangerous, unpredictable, everything I should run from. But as his glowing eyes hold mine, all I can think is that I’d never felt safer in my life.

“And now?” I whisper.

His lips curve into a slow smile, and he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Now, you’re mine. Forever.”

And despite the chaos in my mind, I find myself leaning into him, my instincts screaming that he was right.

***

The morning light is streaming through the cracks in the curtains, and I am still lying here, wrapped in Wolf’s embrace. The weight of his arm around me is grounding, even as my mind tries to untangle the truth, he’d laid bare the night before. A shifter. A wolf. The words felt strange and surreal, like they belonged in a storybook and not the reality I was living.

He stirs beside me, his eyes opening slowly. That glow was still there, faint but unmistakable, and it sends a shiver through me. “Morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” I whisper, my voice soft. My eyes search his face, trying to reconcile the man I’d come to know with the truth of what he was. “How long have you…been like this?”

“Always,” he says simply. “It’s not something you become. It’s what you’re born into.”

I nod slowly, digesting his words. “And the others? They’re like you?”

“Most of them,” he confesses, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “The pack is more than just a club, Bella. It’s family. We protect each other, no matter what.”

The word “family” hits me harder than I expected. I’d spent so long trying to hold onto the little family I had left, and here he was, offering me something I didn’t even realize I needed. “And now I’m part of it?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at me then, his gaze steady and unyielding. “You’ve always been part of it. The moment I saw you, the moment I knew—you were mine. The pack will see it too.”

I swallow hard, the weight of his words settling over me. “What does that mean? For us?”

“It means you’re not alone,” he says. “It means you have people who will stand with you, fight for you. It means you’re safe.”

I nod, letting his words sink in. For the first time in a long time, I felt a glimmer of hope. But there was still a lingering fear, a voice in the back of my mind reminding me of the dangers that came with being part of his world. “And Dylan? What if he comes back?”

Wolf’s expression darkens, his jaw tightening. “If he does, he won’t get far. The pack will handle it.”

I believed him. There was a fierceness in his voice, a certainty that left no room for doubt. But more than that, there was a trust growing between us, fragile but real. And for now, that was enough.

Later that day, I follow Wolf outside to where a group of the brothers are gathered. They are working on bikes, laughing and throwing insults at one another in the way only family could. But as we approach, the mood shifts. Conversations quieten, and all eyes turn to us.

Wolf’s hand brushes against mine, a subtle reassurance as he steps forward. “Bella is now my mate,” he states, his voice carrying easily over the group. “She’s one of us now.”

One of the men—Ironhead, I remember—steps forward, a grin spreading across his face. “Took you long enough, Wolf,” he calls, his tone teasing but warm. He turns to me, his expression softening. “Welcome to the pack.”

“Thanks,” I say, my voice wavering slightly. The weight of their attention is intimidating, but there is kindness in their eyes. Acceptance.

Another man steps forward, his stance relaxed but his gaze sharp. “You’ll fit in fine here,” he says, nodding at me. “Wolf doesn’t bring just anyone into the fold.”

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