Page 15 of Wolf at the Door

The first year was hell. Being a prospect meant doing everything the brothers didn’t want to: cleaning up, running errands, taking punches when things went south. But I learned fast. Learned how the club worked, how loyalty wasn’t just a word—it was a bond. Razor taught me the rules, Cutter showed me the ropes, and Ironhead made sure I understood what happened to anyone who broke trust.

The brothers didn’t make it easy, and they shouldn’t have. I earned every scar, every stripe, every ounce of respect. And when they finally handed me my kutt, I knew I’d found something I never had before: a family.

I’d met plenty of women over the years. Some of them were sweet, others wild. They came and went, never staying long enough to matter. I didn’t let them. Relationships weren’t part of the deal; they were distractions, weaknesses. And in our world, weaknesses got people killed.

Bella was different from the start. She didn’t try to impress me or play games. She didn’t throw herself at me like so many others had. She just…was. Fierce and fragile, defiant and vulnerable. When I saw her, something in me shifted. The walls I’d built so carefully over the years cracked, and for the first time, I wondered if there was room in my life for something more.

She wasn’t like the others. She didn’t just see the tattoos and the leather and the violence. She saw me—the man behind the wolf. And that scared me as much as it thrilled me. Because she made me want to be better, to be more.

I’d learned my lessons the hard way. Trust no one unless they’ve earned it. Never show weakness. Always strike first. Those rules had kept me alive, but they’d also turned me into someone I didn’t recognize sometimes. The club had given me purpose, but it had also hardened me in ways I hadn’t expected.

Pain was the best teacher. Losing people, seeing betrayal up close, knowing that loyalty could be a knife if given to the wrong hands—those were the lessons that shaped me. They turned me into the enforcer, the man who did what others couldn’t or wouldn’t. And I was good at it. Too good. Violence came easy to me, and I didn’t apologize for it.

But Bella? She made me want to be more than just the club’s enforcer. She saw the man I could be, not just the one I’d become. And for her, I’d try. Because she wasn’t just anyone. She was mine.

The roar of the bikes around me pulled me back to the present. The pack rode as one, a force of nature tearing through the dark.Dylan had made his move, and now it was our turn. He’d crossed the line, not just with me but with the entire club. And the pack…we didn’t let things slide.

As we approached the warehouse where Dylan was holed up, my focus sharpened. The memories of how I got here, the lessons I’d learned, all of it led to this moment. I wasn’t just fighting for the pack tonight. I was fighting for her. For us.

Dylan thought he could take what was mine. He thought he could scare her, control her. He had no idea who he was dealing with.

Because I wasn’t just any man. I was a wolf. And when you came for my pack, you learned the hard way what it meant to face a predator. When you came for my mate, you guaranteed your death.

Tonight, Dylan would learn. And he wouldn’t survive the lesson.

Chapter 9

The rumble of the bikes faded into the night, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. I stood on the porch, arms wrapped around myself, watching the taillights disappear down the long road. The wind bit at my skin, but the chill couldn’t reach the storm brewing inside me. They were gone now, Wolf and the brothers, riding out to confront the danger that had loomed over us like a shadow. And I was left behind.

The clubhouse felt too quiet, too still as I stepped inside. Gran was in the kitchen, making tea like nothing had happened. It was her way of coping, I guess. When the world got too loud, she turned to routine. I envy her for that. I envy her ability to act like things would be okay, like life hadn’t just flipped upside down.

I drift to the couch and sit down, pulling my knees up to my chest. My mind is a tangle of thoughts and memories, all of them vying for my attention. But no matter how much I try to focus; it all comes back to him. Wolf.

For so long, I’d thought I knew what love was. Dylan had made me think that. When we first met, he’d been charming, attentive, the kind of man who could light up a room just by walking into it. I’d fallen fast and hard, swept up in his charisma and confidence. But it hadn’t taken long for the cracks to show.

Dylan’s charm came with a darker edge, one that revealed itself in sharp words and tighter grips. He’d wanted control, notpartnership. And I—young, naive, desperate for something that felt like love—had let him have it. By the time I realized what he was, it was too late. He owned every part of my life: my decisions, my freedom, my fear. Getting away from him had been the hardest thing I’d ever done.

Until now.

Being with Wolf was different. Everything about him was raw and overwhelming, and it terrified me as much as it thrilled me. He didn’t try to control me, didn’t try to shape me into something I wasn’t. Instead, he saw me—all the broken, jagged pieces—and didn’t flinch. That scared me more than anything. Because if he saw me, really saw me, then he could hurt me in ways Dylan never could.

And yet, I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t want to.

The shifter thing was still a lot to process. The idea that the man I’d given myself to, the one who held me like I was the most precious thing in the world, wasn’t entirely human? It should’ve made me run for the hills. Instead, it made sense. Everything about him—his intensity, his protectiveness, the way he seemed to see and hear things no one else did—fit into place like a puzzle I hadn’t realized I was solving.

But where did that leave me? How was I supposed to fit into this world of his, this pack? The brothers accepted me because Wolf had claimed me, but I couldn’t help wondering how deep that acceptance went. I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t strong or fearless or even particularly brave. I was just Bella, the girl with too much baggage and not enough answers.

What if I couldn’t handle it? What if I didn’t belong?

Gran’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “Tea’s ready,” she says, setting a steaming mug on the table in front of me. She sits down in the chair, her sharp eyes studying me like she can see right through me.

“You love him,” she states, not a question but a statement.

I swallow hard, my hands wrapping around the mug. “It’s complicated,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Love always is,” Gran assures, her tone matter-of-fact. “But that man…he’s not like the others you’ve known. He’s got strength, but it’s not just in his muscles. It’s in his heart. He’s fighting for you, Bella. You need to decide if you’re going to fight for him, too.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I’d spent so long running, hiding, surviving. Fighting? That this was new. That was terrifying. But maybe it was time. Maybe it was time to stop letting fear dictate my life.

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