Wolf at the Door

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, not partnership. 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.

The hours drag as I wait for Wolf to come back. Every creak of the house, every sound outside, sets my nerves on edge. My thoughts keep spiralling, jumping from fear to hope and back again. What if he didn’t come back? What if this was the night I lost him?

But then I think about the way he’d looked at me before he left, the promise in his eyes. “Always,” he’d said. And for the first time, I let myself believe it.

Because if there was one thing I knew about Wolf, it was that he didn’t break his promises.

I thought about the pack and what it meant to be part of it. The brothers had treated me with wary acceptance, but I knew it was only because of Wolf. He commanded respect, and that respect extended to me, for now. But what would happen if I couldn’t live up to their expectations? If I couldn’t fit into their world?

The pack wasn’t just a club or a family. It was something deeper, primal. They moved as one, their loyalty unshakable, their bond stronger than anything I’d ever known. I’d seen it in the way they looked at each other, the way they worked together without needing words. It was beautiful and intimidating, and I couldn’t help wondering if I could ever truly be part of it.

Would they ever see me as more than just Wolf’s woman? Could I find my place among them, or would I always feel like an outsider?

I thought about my past, about the little girl I used to be. My mother had always been the soft-spoken one, gentle and kind to the point of self-sacrifice. She’d taught me how to be empathetic, to listen more than I spoke, and to care deeply about the people around me. But her gentleness came with a price. My father had walked all over her, his temper as sharp as the words he used to cut her down. I remembered hiding in my room, clutching a pillow to my ears as they fought downstairs, wishing for it all to stop.

When he finally left us, there was relief—but also a void. My mother tried to fill it by working herself to the bone, but the world had already worn her down too much. By the time I was in high school, I was more caretaker than daughter, balancing school, part-time jobs, and making sure she didn’t completely fall apart. There wasn’t room for fighting back or standing up. Survival was all I knew.

Maybe that was why I hadn’t fought Dylan sooner. By the time I realized he was just another version of my father, I was already trapped, too afraid of what might happen if I left. I’d learned how to keep the peace, how to shrink myself to avoid the blow-ups. Fighting wasn’t in my nature. Or at least, that’s what I’d always believed.

But now? Now I wasn’t so sure. Being with Wolf, seeing the strength in him and the way he looked at me like I was someone worth protecting, it made me want to believe I could be more. Maybe I could learn to fight—not just for him, but for myself.

I thought about the things that made me who I was, the small pieces of me that hadn’t been stolen by fear or pain. I loved quiet mornings, the way the light filtered through the trees, and the smell of coffee brewing. I loved books, the kind that let you escape into another world where the endings were happy, or at least hopeful. I loved music, the kind that made your heart ache in the best way. And I loved the idea of belonging, of finding a place where I didn’t have to be anything but myself.

Dislikes? Those were easier. Loud voices, raised fists, the smell of alcohol on someone’s breath. They all reminded me of my father and Dylan, of a life spent walking on eggshells. I hated feeling powerless, like my choices didn’t matter. But most of all, I hated the idea of going back to that place, of losing the fragile hope I’d started to build with Wolf.

How would I fit into the pack? That was the question that kept circling back. They were strong, unyielding, bound together by something I didn’t fully understand. But maybe that was the point. Maybe I didn’t have to be like them to belong. Maybe I just had to be willing to try.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel completely alone. I had Wolf, and through him, I had the pack. It wouldn’t be easy, and I had no idea what the future looked like. But for the first time, I wasn’t afraid to imagine it.

When the sound of bikes finally roared back in the distance, relief floods through me so fast it leaves me dizzy. I run out to the porch, my heart pounding as the headlights came into view. And there he is, at the front of the pack, his silhouette as familiar as my own shadow.

He’d come back. He always would. And maybe, just maybe, I’d find a way to be brave enough to stand by his side.