Page 23 of Fear

A long pause. He could hear her inhale, the slight tremor in her breath. "Are you… are you calling to say goodbye?"

"No." His voice was gruff, firm. "I don’t do goodbyes, Sofia. I just needed to hear your voice." Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears.

"I don’t like this," she finally admitted. "I don’t like you going out there without knowing if you’ll come back."

Goliath clenched his jaw. He wanted to promise her everything would be fine, but he wouldn’t lie to her. Instead, he breathed out, “I’m coming back to you. Always.”

She didn’t answer right away, but he could hear her breathing pick up. “You better.”

He smirked. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”

“Damn right,” she shot back, voice shaky but full of fire, “just make sure you come back.”

His chest ached with something dangerous and deep. She was his. "You got it, baby."

And with that, he hung up, shoving his phone into his pocket as he turned back toward the men.

King was already gearing up, loading his weapons when Goliath approached. “Frost’s been quiet. More than usual.”

King didn’t look up, but his expression tightened. "Yeah. I noticed."

"Something’s off with him."

King finally met Goliath’s gaze. “Keep an eye on him.”

Goliath nodded. "I will."

The road stretched out before them, dark and empty. They rode in formation, engines roaring through the night, a silent promise of the hell they were about to rain down on the Shadow Riders. Then, it happened.

The first shot cracked through the air, shattering the night’s silence.

“AMBUSH!” King roared, yanking his bike to the side just as a hail of bullets rained down from the treeline.

The men reacted instantly. Bikes swerved, guns were drawn, and the night exploded into chaos.

Goliath threw himself off his bike, rolling behind an abandoned truck for cover. His wolf snarled inside him, begging to be unleashed.

The Shadow Riders were dug in, on high ground and well covered, they were on a damn good position. But they hadn’t counted on one thing—

The Wolverines weren’t easy prey.

Fang and Hunter flanked left, sending return fire into the treeline. Blue and Dixon took the right, picking off Shadow Riders wherever they could. Goliath and the rest of the men surged forward, ducking and weaving between gunfire, their own guns barking in return. Then, a sharp cry split the air. Blue.

He went down hard, blood pouring from his shoulder as he clutched the wound. “FUCK!”

And that was all it took for Frost to lose it. A guttural roar ripped from Frost’s throat as he charged forward, no hesitation, no cover, just pure rage.

The shooter didn’t even have time to react before Frost was on him, knife flashing, tearing through flesh like it was paper. Another Shadow Rider came at him from the side, blade in hand, ready to strike. The knife sank deep into Frost’s side, but he didn’t stop.

With a snarl, he yanked the blade from his own flesh and plunged it into the bastard’s throat. Goliath reached him first, grabbing his arm before he could stagger any further.

"Frost! You’re hit." Frost barely blinked, his breathing ragged but his eyes cold. “So?”

Goliath’s teeth clenched. “So, you’re not dying today.”

The battle raged around them, but in that moment, Goliath knew one thing—this wasn’t over, not by a long shot. There was something going on with Frost, something deep, and whatever that was they would have to make sure that they all pulled together to help him through it, because Frost was one crazy motherfucker that would rather self-harm then impose or hurt anyone close to him.

The firefight intensified, bullets ricocheting off metal and tearing through the night. The Shadow Riders weren’t backingdown easily, and for every man the Wolverines dropped, more seemed to appear from the darkness.

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