Wolf at the Door

Chapter 6

The clubhouse had a rhythm to it, a steady pulse that carried us through the chaos of the world outside. For years, it had been my sanctuary, the one place where I didn’t have to justify who I was or what I’d done. But ever since Bella walked through those doors, the rhythm had changed. Every noise seemed sharper, every scent more potent. And her scent—it lingered in the air, clinging to me like a shadow, reminding me that she was here, vulnerable, and still scared.

I’d spent most of the morning keeping an ear on the perimeter. Finn had checked in, saying Dylan’s car was gone, but I wasn’t naive enough to think the asshole had given up. If anything, the quiet made me more anxious. Men like him didn’t just walk away. They waited, bided their time, and struck when you least expected it. That thought had my fists clenching and my wolf stirring beneath the surface, restless and ready to tear him apart.

Bella was sitting at the bar with Lena, her laughter soft but real. It was the first time I’d heard it, and it caught me off guard. It wasn’t forced or nervous—it was genuine, like she’d let her guard down just enough to forget about the weight she’d been carrying. It made something inside me twist, a feeling I wasn’t ready to name.

“Wolf.” Ironhead’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I turn to see him motioning for me to follow him toward the garage. His expression is serious, his brows furrowed in that way they got when he had something important to say.

“What’s up?” I ask, keeping my tone casual as we step outside. The sun is high, the scent of motor oil and pine thick in the air.

“You tell her yet?” Ironhead asked, crossing his arms as he leans against the side of the garage.

I didn’t need to ask what he meant. My jaw tightens, and I shake my head. “No. And I don’t plan to. She’s got enough on her plate without throwing that into the mix.”

Ironhead snorts. “You think she won’t find out? You think Dylan’s just some regular asshole? The way he’s acting, it’s got their scent all over it.”

I didn’t respond right away, my gaze drifting toward the clubhouse. Ironhead wasn’t wrong. Dylan’s persistence wasn’t normal, and I’d been wondering if there was more to him than I’d first thought. But the idea of telling Bella the truth about us, about me—it made my stomach twist in a way I didn’t like.

“If she finds out,” Ironhead continues, his voice low, “you’re gonna have to make a choice. You know that, right? She’s either in or out. And if she’s out…”

“She’s not out,” I snap, the words coming out harsher than I intended. My wolf bristled at the thought, the very idea of her walking away. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Ironhead raises an eyebrow, but there is a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “You’re sure about that? Because if she’s your mate, this isn’t just about keeping her safe. It’s about making her part of the pack.”

The word hit me like a punch to the gut. Mate. I’d been avoiding it, ignoring the signs, but the truth had been staring me in the face from the moment I saw her. The pull I felt toward her wasn’t just attraction—it was instinct, raw and undeniable. She was mine.

“She doesn’t know,” I say quietly, more to myself than to him. “And I don’t know if she’s ready to.”

Ironhead claps a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “She’ll find out eventually. Better it comes from you than someone else. Just think about it.”

I nod, but my mind is already racing. How the hell was I supposed to tell Bella that the man protecting her wasn’t entirely human? That the pack she was staying with wasn’t just a metaphor?

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 on one 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 flicking between 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.”

***

The sound of motorcycles echoes down the road as we approach. Ironhead riding on my left, Rocco on my right, and five more patched brothers brought up the rear. The cars are parked just where Finn had said, their headlights off but their presence unmistakable. I pull up in front, cutting the engine and stepping off my bike. The others fan out behind me, a silent wall of leather and muscle.

Dylan leans against the hood of his car, a smug grin plastered across his face. He is flanked by a few guys who look like they think they are tough—tight shirts, cocky postures, the kind of guys who only act big when they have numbers on their side. My wolf growls low in my chest, itching to tear them apart.

“Wolf,” Dylan drawls, spreading his arms like he is welcoming an old friend. “You didn’t have to bring the whole circus. I just wanted to talk.”

I don’t respond right away. I let the silence stretch, let him feel the weight of my gaze. Finally, I step forward, closing the distance between us. “You’ve been warned,” I say, my voice low and even. “You don’t get to come near her. Not here. Not ever.”

He laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “Come on, man. You can’t seriously think she belongs with you. Look at this place—this club. She’s not one of you.”

“She’s under my protection,” I warn, taking another step closer. “And that means she’s part of our club, whether you like it or not.”

Dylan’s grin falters for a split second, and I see the fear flicker in his eyes. He didn’t understand the full weight of what I was saying, but he felt it. He could sense the threat, even if he didn’t know its true nature.

“Club,” he scoffs, trying to recover. “That’s cute. What are you gonna do? Flex your muscles at me?”

I smile then, slow and deliberate, letting just a hint of my wolf shine through. Dylan freezes, his bravado crumbling as he takes an involuntary step back.

“You don’t want to know what I’ll do,” I warn. “But if you so much as think about coming near her again, you’ll find out. And trust me—it won’t be cute.”

The tension is thick, the kind of silence that only comes before a storm. Dylan’s crew shifts nervously behind him, their eyes darting between us and the brothers at my back. They weren’t ready for this fight. They didn’t belong in this world.

Dylan must’ve realized it too, because he raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright,” he says, backing toward his car. “Message received. But this isn’t over, Wolf. Not by a long shot.”

He climbs into the driver’s seat, his guys scrambling to follow. I stand there, watching as they speed off into the night, my wolf pacing beneath my skin. This wasn’t over, and we both knew it.

By the time we returned, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the compound. Bella was inside, sitting at the bar with Lena, her eyes lighting up the second she saw me. She doesn’t say anything, but the relief on her face is unmistakable.

“You okay?” I ask, stepping closer.

She nods, her voice soft. “Yeah. Did he…?”

“He’s gone,” I update. “For now.”

She hesitates, then reaches out, her fingers brushing against mine. It was a small gesture, barely more than a touch, but it sent a wave of warmth through me. I cover her hand with mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re safe,” I promise.