Wolf at the Door

Chapter 5

The heavy door of the room clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the plain walls and the worn bed in front of me. It wasn’t much, but it felt safer than anything had in months. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d gotten myself into.

This was the kind of place my mom had warned me about when I was little—a den of wolves, she would have said. She’d always had a thing for fairy tales, twisting their morals into lessons to keep me in line. Don’t wander off the path. Don’t trust strangers. And, most importantly, stay away from wolves. But here I was, not just straying from the path, but walking right into the heart of the forest, with the biggest, baddest wolf I’d ever met.

I didn’t even know his real name. Wolf—that’s all he’d told me, like it was part of his DNA, something as fundamental as the colour of his eyes or the ink on his skin. And it suited him. Everything about him screamed danger, from the way he carried himself to the way he’d taken Dylan down without breaking a sweat. But as much as he scared me, he’d also protected me. He didn’t have to step in, didn’t have to drag me into his world. Yet, he had.

I sank down onto the edge of the bed, running my fingers over the worn quilt. My heart was still racing from everything that had happened. Dylan showing up, Wolf’s intervention, the ride here—it all felt like a blur, like I’d stepped into a story I didn’t belong in. And maybe I didn’t. But there was something about Wolf that felt different, even if I couldn’t quite put my finger on it yet.

I pulled my red jacket tighter around me, the fabric soft and familiar against my skin. It had been my favourite for years, a gift from Gran when I was still in high school. She’d called it my armour, bright and bold, a way to face the world without fear. I’d believed her back then, but now? Now I wasn’t sure a piece of clothing could keep me safe from someone like Dylan—or the world Wolf lived in.

A knock on the door startles me, pulling me out of my thoughts. For a second, I thought it might be Wolf, but when the door didn’t open, I realized whoever it was had the decency to wait for an answer.

“Come in,” I call, my voice steadier than I felt.

The door opened, and a young guy stepped in. He couldn’t have been much older than me, with a mop of blond hair and a nervous energy that didn’t match the rugged vibe of the place. He had the look of someone trying to prove himself, his leather vest clean and unadorned except for the word Prospect stitched on the front.

“Uh, hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wolf sent me to check in. Said you might need something.”

I shake my head, offering a small smile. “I’m fine. Just…trying to process everything.”

He nods, his eyes darting around the room like he wasn’t sure where to look. “Yeah, uh, I get that. It’s, uh…a lot.” He hesitates, then adds, “Wolf’s solid, though. He’ll take care of things.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I just nodded. The prospect lingered for a moment before backing out of the room, muttering something about being right outside if I needed him. The door closed again, and I exhaled slowly.

Wolf. Solid. I wanted to believe that, but it was hard to shake the doubts gnawing at me. He was still a biker, still part of a world I didn’t understand. And while he hadn’t given me any reason to think he’d hurt me, I’d learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving. Dylan had been charming once, too.

But Wolf wasn’t Dylan. That much was clear. Dylan had been all bluster and bravado, his anger bubbling just under the surface, waiting for an excuse to boil over. Wolf, on the other hand, was calm, steady, like he’d seen it all and come out the other side stronger. And there was something else, too—something in the way he’d looked at me, like I was more than just some girl he’d picked up off the street.

I stand and cross to the window, peeking out at the compound below. The place is alive with activity, men milling around with beers in hand, laughter and conversation drifting up into the night. It should have felt chaotic, but it didn’t. It felt like a pack—like every person here had a role, a place they belonged.

And then there was Wolf, leaning against his bike, talking to a couple of the others. Even from up here, I could see the way they looked at him—like he was someone they trusted, someone they respected. The wolf at the head of the pack.

A flicker of movement caught my eye, and my breath hitched. Down the block, just beyond the compound’s fence, a car was parked. Dylan’s car. He wasn’t stupid enough to come closer—not with all these bikers around—but the sight of him sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through me.

I step back from the window, my heart pounding. I don’t know what Wolf has planned, don’t know how far he was willing to go to protect me. But as I stare out at the shadows of the forest beyond the compound, I realize I don’t have much of a choice. For now, I must trust him.

I pace the room, trying to shake the unease that had settled in my chest. The sight of Dylan’s car parked just outside the compound was burned into my brain, a reminder that no matter how far I ran, he’d always find me. Always remind me that he wasn’t done with me yet.

But this time was different. This time, I wasn’t alone.

I glance at the window again, half expecting Dylan’s car to be gone, but it wasn’t. It sat there like a dark stain against the backdrop of the night, its headlights off but its presence blaring. A shiver runs through me as I think about what he might do if I ever step outside those gates.

My eyes shift downward, and that’s when I see him—Wolf. He was looking right at me, his gaze sharp and piercing even from this distance. The intensity of it made my breath catch, but what struck me more was the look on his face. It wasn’t just anger—it was something deeper, something almost primal. He’d seen me watching Dylan, seen the fear I couldn’t quite hide, and now his entire stance was different. Tensed, ready to strike.

I back away from the window, my heart hammering. There was something terrifying and reassuring about him at the same time. He was dangerous, no doubt about it. But he wasn’t dangerous to me. At least, I didn’t think so.

***

I’d stepped out front to clear my head, the cool night air biting against my skin. The brothers were milling around as usual, sharing beers and shooting the shit, but my mind was elsewhere. I lean back against my bike, staring up at the clubhouse window where I’d left Bella.

This was supposed to be a simple situation. Keep the girl safe, deal with the prick who couldn’t take no for an answer and move on. But as I watch the faint shadow of her silhouette behind the window, I can’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t going to be that simple. Something about Bella had gotten under my skin, and that wasn’t like me.

She moved closer to the window, and I caught a glimpse of her face. Her dark hair framed her features, her lips parted like she was breathing hard. I expected to see relief, maybe curiosity as she got used to her new surroundings. But instead, there was something else. Her body was tense, her shoulders tight, and her wide eyes weren’t looking at me—they were fixed on something beyond the compound.

A chill runs down my spine, and my jaw clenches as I follow her gaze. Beyond the fence, just far enough to stay out of immediate sight, was a car. My blood ran hot as recognition settles in. It was Dylan’s car. That little shit was braver—or stupider—than I’d thought.

I look back at Bella. She has stepped away from the window, retreating into the shadows like she didn’t want to be seen. Fear. That was what I’d seen in her eyes. Not the kind of fear that came from being in a new place, but the kind that ran deeper, the kind you carried in your bones. And that fear had my anger skyrocketing.

I push off my bike, my boots crunching against the gravel as I storm toward the nearest prospect. Finn was leaning against the clubhouse wall, his phone in hand, looking like he was seconds away from dozing off. Not on my watch.

“Finn,” I bark, and he snaps to attention, nearly dropping his phone. “You’re on perimeter duty now. There’s a car parked just outside the compound, and I want to know everything about it. Who’s in it, how long it’s been there, and why the hell it’s not moving. Go.”

“Yes, Wolf,” Finn says, his voice steady but his steps hurried as he jogs toward the gate.

I turn back to the clubhouse, my eyes narrowing as I stare up at the window. She was in there, probably pacing, probably trying to decide whether she could trust me—or anyone in this place. That was fine. She didn’t need to trust me yet. She just needed to stay alive long enough to figure it out.

I’d dealt with a lot of scumbags in my time, guys who thought they could get away with anything because they’d never been put in their place. Dylan was no different. He’d picked the wrong girl to mess with and the wrong club to step up against. If he thought he could rattle Bella by parking his ass outside the fence, he had another thing coming.

Razor’s words from earlier echoed in my head. “If this turns into club business, you handle it.” Damn right, I would. Dylan might not know it yet, but he was already standing on the edge of a cliff. And I was more than ready to give him the final push.

Finn came jogging back a few minutes later, his face pale under the glow of the compound’s lights. “I think it’s her Ex,” he said, panting slightly. “He’s just sitting there. No movement. Looks like he’s waiting for something—or someone.”

I nod sharply. “Good. Keep eyes on him, but don’t engage unless he makes a move. If he tries to get closer or does anything stupid, you call me immediately.”

Finn nods, clearly eager to prove himself. “Got it, Wolf.”

As he disappeared back toward the gate, I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. Anger was a tool—it could sharpen your instincts, give you an edge—but if you let it take control, it could also be your downfall. I couldn’t afford to lose focus, not now.

I glance up at the window again, my fists clenching at the thought of Bella sitting in there, afraid because of some asshole who didn’t know how to let go. She didn’t deserve this. Whatever had happened between her and Dylan, it was over. He just didn’t seem to understand that.

The wind picks up, rustling the leaves at the edge of the compound, and I feel the weight of the night settle over me. Protecting Bella wasn’t just about keeping Dylan away. It was about showing her that not all wolves were the same. Some of us were dangerous, sure, but only to those who threatened what we cared about.

And right now, whether she knew it or not, she was part of my pack.

***

A knock at the door startles me, and I freeze, my pulse racing. “Bella,” Wolf’s voice calls from the other side, low and steady. “You good?”

I exhale, letting the tension ease out of my shoulders. “Yeah,” I answer, my voice shaky but loud enough for him to hear. “Just…processing.”

There was a pause, and then his voice came again, softer this time. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve got Finn keeping an eye on things. He won’t let that prick get close.”

I bite my lip, unsure how to respond. Part of me wanted to open the door, to thank him for stepping in when no one else ever had. But another part of me—the part that still had Dylan’s voice echoing in my ears—warned me to be careful. Wolves were wolves, no matter how protective they seemed.

“Thanks,” I reply finally, my words barely above a whisper.

Another pause. “Get some rest,” he states, and I hear his boots retreat down the hall.

I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the door. Rest. Like that was going to happen with Dylan parked outside, probably thinking of a million ways to make my life hell. But the thought of Wolf out there, barking orders and keeping everyone on high alert, gave me a strange sense of calm.

***

The next morning, the clubhouse is alive with activity. I’d barely slept, my nerves keeping me up long after the sounds of motorcycles and voices had faded into the night. When I finally ventured out of the room, I found myself face-to-face with a world I’d only ever seen in movies.

The main room was crowded with men in leather kutts, their conversations loud and unapologetic. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint scent of motor oil. A couple of guys were playing pool in the corner, their laughter echoing off the walls, while others sat around the bar, nursing cups of coffee that looked as strong as jet fuel.

I hesitate at the edge of the room, unsure where to go or what to do. It wasn’t like I could just walk up to someone and say, “Hey, I’m the girl Wolf dragged in last night. What’s for breakfast?”

“Morning.” The voice came from a woman behind the bar, her dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She has a sharp face and a quick smile, her eyes sizing me up in a way that makes me feel both welcome and on edge. “You must be Bella.”

I nod, stepping closer. “Yeah. That obvious?”

She chuckles, pouring coffee into a chipped mug and sliding it across the bar toward me. “New face. Deer-in-headlights look. Kind of gives it away.”

I manage a small smile and take the mug, wrapping my hands around it for warmth. “Thanks. And you are?”

“Lena,” she replies, leaning on the bar. “I handle things around here. Coffee, booze, food—basically, if it keeps these guys moving, I’m in charge of it.”

I nod again, feeling a little more at ease. “Nice to meet you.”

Her gaze flickers toward the other end of the room, where Wolf is standing with a group of men, his arms crossed as he listens to whatever they were discussing. Even in a room full of people, he stands out, his presence commanding attention without him even trying.

“He’s a good guy, you know,” Lena reveals, her voice softer now. “Wolf. Doesn’t let a lot of people in, but when he does, he doesn’t half-ass it.”

I glance at her, surprised by her candour. “I…don’t know what to think yet.”

She smiles knowingly. “You will.”

Before I can respond, Wolf’s voice cuts through the room, calling my name. Heads turn, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks as I look up to see him motioning for me to join him. I set the coffee down and walk over, feeling the weight of every set of eyes in the room.

“This is Bella,” Wolf introduces me to the group as I approach, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s staying here for now. That means she’s under our protection. If anyone’s got a problem with that, they can take it up with me.”

The men exchange glances but say nothing. One of them—a tall guy with a shaved head and a scar running down his cheek—grins and gives me a nod. “Welcome to the pack,” he states, his voice rough but not unkind.

“Thanks,” I say awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

Wolf turns back to the group, his attention already shifting to the matter at hand. But as the conversation picks up again, he shoots me a quick glance, his eyes meeting mine for just a second. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind me that I wasn’t completely alone in this.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might actually be safe. Wolf's hand squeezed my shoulder gently before he called out, "Lena!"

Lena approaches, her striking green eyes and dark hair streaked with purple appeared from behind the bar. She moved with a confident grace that spoke of someone completely at home in this rough environment.

"Get Bella some breakfast," Wolf orders, his voice carrying that tone of authority that seemed as natural to him as breathing. "Show her around."

Lena's smile was warm as she nods. "Come on, honey. Let's get some food in you while these boys handle their business."

I hesitated, glancing at Wolf, but his encouraging nod made me follow her into the kitchen. It was surprisingly clean and organized, with the smell of coffee already filling the air.

"You look like you could use this," Lena said, sliding a steaming mug in front of me before starting to cook. "I know that look in your eyes, you know. Had it myself when I first came here."

I wrapped my hands around the warm mug. "You weren't always part of the club?"

"God, no," she laughed, cracking eggs into a pan. "I was running from my own demons three years ago. Ex-husband who thought a restraining order was just a piece of paper. Found myself in this town with nothing but a broken-down car and empty pockets." She paused, flipping the eggs with practiced ease. "Razor found me sleeping in my car behind the bar where I'd picked up a shift. Instead of running me off, he offered me a job here at the clubhouse."

"Just like that?" I asked, scepticism creeping into my voice.

"Just like that," she confirmed, sliding a plate of eggs and toast in front of me. "These men... they're rough around the edges, sure. But they protect their own. And once they decide you're family, that's it. You're under their protection for life." She leaned against the counter, her expression serious. "I've seen Wolf with the others, seen how he is with the pack. The way he looks at you? That's different. Special."

"I'm scared," I admitted quietly, pushing the eggs around my plate. "Not of him, but..."

"Of letting yourself believe you're safe?" Lena finished, understanding in her eyes. "Been there. But here's the thing about this place, about these people – they don't just talk about loyalty and family. They live it. That man out there? He'd tear the world apart to keep you safe. And the rest of us? We've got your back too."

She reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. "You're not alone."

Looking into her eyes, I saw the truth there – the same sense of belonging I'd been searching for my whole life. Maybe she was right. Maybe I had found a safe place.