Page 9 of Wolf at the Door

I spend the afternoon in the garage, trying to keep my hands busy while my thoughts spiral. But no matter how hard I work, my mind keeps drifting back to Bella. The way she’d smiled at Lena earlier. The way she’d stood her ground when I brought her into the main room and introduced her to the brothers. She was tough, tougher than she gave herself credit for. But she was also fragile in ways she probably didn’t even realize.

By the time I finally emerged, the sun was sinking low, casting long shadows across the compound. Bella was sitting outside onone of the old wooden chairs, her red jacket wrapped around her like a shield. She looked up as I approach, her expression softening slightly.

“Hey,” she greets, her voice quiet. “You’ve been busy.”

“Yeah,” I reply, leaning against the railing beside her.

“Had some things to take care of.”

She nods, her gaze drifting toward the fence. “Finn said Dylan’s car is gone. Do you think he’s really gone, or is he just waiting?”

“Waiting,” I confirm without hesitation. “Guys like him don’t just give up.”

She shivers, pulling the jacket tighter around her. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t been there yesterday. He…he scares me.”

My chest tightens, and I turn to face her fully. “He’s not going to hurt you, Bella. Not while you’re here. Not ever.”

Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the air between us feels heavy, charged with something I can’t name. She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, Finn comes jogging up, his face pale.

“Wolf,” he calls, breathless. “We’ve got a problem.”

I straighten immediately, my wolf already on edge. “What is it?”

“Dylan,” Finn begins, glancing at Bella before looking back at me. “He’s back. And he’s not alone.”

Finn’s words hit like a gunshot, and everything around me blurs. Dylan wasn’t just back—he’d brought reinforcements. That wasn’t a move made out of desperation; it was calculated, cocky. He thought he could come at me, at the club, and still walk away.

“Where?” I bark, my voice sharp enough to make Finn flinch.

“About a half mile down the road,” he said quickly. “Looks like two cars, maybe four or five guys total. They’re hanging back, but it’s definitely him.”

I don’t need to hear more. My wolf surges forward, every instinct screaming to protect what was mine. But this wasn’t just about Dylan anymore. It was about Bella and what she represented. If Dylan thought he could bring trouble to the pack’s doorstep, he was about to learn how wrong he was.

I turn to Bella, who is sitting stiffly in the chair, her hands gripping the edges like she is trying to steady herself. Her wide eyes locked on mine, searching for reassurance. I gave her a small nod.

“Stay here,” I order firmly. “Stay inside.”

Her lip’s part like she wants to argue, but something in my expression must’ve stopped her. She nods once, her voice soft. “Okay.”

“Lena,” I call over my shoulder as I head toward the clubhouse door. She appeared within seconds, her sharp eyes flickingbetween me and Bella. “Stay with her. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

“You got it,” Lena confirms, her tone brisk as she moves to Bella’s side. I trust Lena to hold the line if it came to that. She was a survivor, tough as hell, and she wouldn’t hesitate to do what needed to be done.

Inside, the pack is already stirring. The air is heavy with tension, the kind that came before a fight. Razor standing by the bar, Cutter leaning against the pool table with his usual smirk. But even Cutter looks more serious than usual.

“What’s the play?” Razor asks, his sharp eyes locking onto mine.

“Dylan’s back,” I reveal. “Not alone.”

The murmurs start immediately, but Razor holds up a hand to silence them. “How many?”

“Two cars, four or five guys,” I reply. “They’re sitting just outside our territory, testing us.”

Razor’s jaw tightens, and he nods slowly. “Alright. Let’s make this clear: no one tests the Road Killers and walks away. Cutter, get the boys together. Wolf—”

“I’ll handle it,” I cut in. My voice is low, but the room goes dead quiet. Every eye turned toward me, and I let my wolf rise just enough for them to see it in my stance, in my eyes. “Dylan’s my problem. I’ll make sure he understands what happens when he crosses us.”

Razor studies me for a moment, then nods. “Alright. But you take backup. This isn’t just about him anymore—it’s about sending a message.”

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