Chapter 3
The ride to the Wolverine MC felt like a fever dream. The rhythmic roar of the Harley beneath her, the wind whipping against her skin, the steady warmth of Dash in front of her—it was all too much. Her body was exhausted, her mind even more so, but she forced herself to stay alert. Trust was a foreign concept, and though Alaska had assured her these men were safe, her body refused to believe it.
When they finally slowed, the bike rumbled onto a long dirt road, the scent of pine and motor oil thick in the air. She lifted her head slightly, blinking through the dust as the clubhouse came into view. It was larger than she had expected, built from dark, aged wood with reinforced steel along the sides. The building itself was surrounded by garages and smaller cabins, and several motorcycles were parked in uneven rows along the gravel lot. A large iron gate stood open, a symbol of security but also warning.
Her stomach twisted as she took in the people standing outside. Men with leather cuts emblazoned with the Wolverine MC insignia stood in groups, some smoking, some talking in low voices. Their eyes flicked toward her as Dash’s bike rolled in, curiosity flashing in their expressions. The women stood near the entrance, just as intimidating in their own right, their expressions sharp, assessing.
Sofia’s hands tightened around the seat. Everything about this place screamed danger, dominance, a world she didn’t belong to. But she had no choice. Alaska had promised her safety, and this was the only place she could find it.
As the bike came to a stop, Sofia hesitated before swinging her leg over, her body stiff from exhaustion and tension. She could feel the weight of their stares as she pulled off the helmet, her fingers trembling slightly. She hated this feeling—being watched, being judged.
Alaska was already there, stepping forward before Sofia could fully gather herself.
"Jesus, Sof," Alaska murmured, pulling her into a tight hug. "You look like hell."
Sofia let herself melt into the embrace, the familiar scent of leather and vanilla grounding her. "I feel like hell."
Alaska pulled back, her sharp gaze scanning Sofia’s face, taking in the exhaustion, the bruises that still lingered faintly along her jaw. "You’re safe now. I promise."
Before Sofia could respond, another voice broke through the moment. "Alaska, are you bringing strays home now?"
Sofia turned to see a man approaching—tall, broad, with a confident stride that said he owned the space around him. His vest read Dixon, and his sharp green eyes studied her with mild interest, but not in a way that made her feel uneasy. If anything, he looked more amused than anything.
"She’s not a stray," Alaska shot back. "She’s family."
Dixon lifted a brow before nodding. "Then she’s under club protection. That’s all that matters."
Sofia shifted uncomfortably as more people gathered around, faces she didn’t know, names she didn’t recognize. A woman with striking dark hair and soft brown eyes stepped forward—Dakota, if she remembered the name Alaska had mentioned. Beside her was Siena, blonde, tall, her expression softer but still cautious. Sofia had spent hours on the phone with Alaska, even though she didn’t know these people personally she felt like she knew who they were from Alaska’s description of them.
"We’ll get you cleaned up," Dakota said gently, as if sensing Sofia’s unease. "Come inside, away from all the testosterone."
But Sofia wasn’t listening anymore. Because the moment she turned, the moment she looked beyond the crowd, she saw him.
A massive figure stood at the far end of the lot, his stance rigid, his gaze locked onto her like a predator scenting its prey. He was broader than any man she had ever seen, his arms thick with muscle, his dark hair slightly tousled, giving him a rugged, dangerous look. His eyes—golden, intense—burned into her with an emotion so raw it made her stomach twist.
Sofia’s breath caught. The world around her blurred, fading into the background as his gaze held her captive. There was something there, something primal and overwhelming, something that made her body react before her mind could process it.
He must be Goliath, Alaska had mentioned how he suited his name.
He hadn’t moved, but she could feel the energy radiating off of him, something almost electric. She didn’t understand it, but deep down, something told her she had just stepped into something far more dangerous than she could ever comprehend.
***
The second she stepped off the bike, he knew.
His wolf snarled inside him, clawing, demanding, claiming. His vision tunnelled, locking onto the fragile woman standing in the lot, her scent reaching him even from a distance. It was intoxicating—something sweet, something warm, something his.
Mate.
The word slammed into him like a freight train. He had spent years watching as his brothers found their mates, had told himself he didn’t need one, that he was fine without that kind of bond. But now, looking at her, he knew he had been lying to himself all along.
The wolf’s possessiveness was immediate, intense. Protect her. Claim her. Kill for her.
She was scared. He could see it in the way her hands trembled, the way she scanned the people around her like a caged animal looking for an escape. His gut tightened. No one was ever going to make her feel that way again. Not while he was breathing.
His body moved before his mind could stop it, his boots crunching against the gravel as he closed the distance. He barely registered the way the other men stiffened, sensing the shift in the air. They weren’t stupid. They knew what was happening.
"Goliath," Dixon called warily. "Brother—"
He ignored him, his focus solely on her. When he stopped just a few feet away, she looked up at him, those stunning blue eyes wide with uncertainty, with something else he couldn’t place.
He opened his mouth, but when she spoke first, it hit him like a punch to the chest.
"Who—?"
Her voice was soft, hesitant, and yet it ignited something violent inside him. The sound of it sent a thrill down his spine, making his wolf push harder against his skin.
He exhaled sharply, trying to rein in the sudden, overwhelming urge to pull her to him, to scent her, to mark her so every single man in this club knew she was his.
"Mine," he growled, his voice lower than he intended.
A ripple of awareness went through the gathered men, some smirking, others exchanging knowing glances. They knew better than to interfere. A shifter finding his mate was absolute. And Goliath was already teetering on the edge of losing control.
Sofia’s brows pulled together, confusion flashing in her eyes. "Excuse me?"
Goliath forced himself to take a step back, just enough to ease the tension crackling between them. "You’re safe here. But you stick with the women. No man touches you. Not unless they want to lose a limb."
The threat was clear. And from the way the men subtly backed off, they knew he meant every damn word.
Sofia, however, only looked more confused. And for the first time in his life, Goliath felt something foreign settle in his chest. Patience.
She didn’t understand yet. But she would. Because she was his, and he was never letting her go.
The women seemed to sense the shift in the air, exchanging knowing looks before stepping in. Dakota and Siena gently guided Sofia away, shielding her from the intensity of the men’s stares. As they ushered her inside, Alaska nudged her playfully, her voice light despite the tension.
"Didn’t expect that, did you?" Alaska teased, winking at Sofia. "Big bad Goliath looking like he’s been struck by lightning."
Sofia blinked, still overwhelmed, glancing back over her shoulder. Goliath hadn’t moved, his golden eyes tracking her every step, his hands clenched into fists as if holding himself back. There was something so raw, so fierce about him that it sent her stomach into knots.
"He’s… intense," Sofia admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alaska chuckled, looping her arm through Sofia’s. "That’s putting it lightly, babe. But don’t worry, we’ll explain everything soon. First, let’s get you cleaned up."
Once inside, Sofia was led down a dimly lit hallway to a room that had clearly been prepared for her. The bed was freshly made, soft blankets stacked neatly, and a few sets of clothes were laid out on the chair in the corner. It was more than she could have asked for. More than she deserved.
Sofia turned, suddenly feeling the weight of everything. "I don’t know how to thank you all. I… I don’t even know if I belong here."
"You do," Dakota said firmly. "You’re family now."
Sofia swallowed past the lump in her throat. These women—these strangers—were treating her with more kindness than she had felt in years. It was overwhelming. She had spent these last couple of days running, fearing every new face, that the genuine warmth in their eyes was almost too much.
"Let’s get you taken care of," Siena said as she moved toward the adjoining bathroom. "I’m running you a bath. You need it."
Another woman, Onyx, handed her a bottle of water. "Drink this. You look like you’re about to pass out."
Alaska sat on the bed beside her, watching her with quiet concern. "You want to talk about it?"
Sofia hesitated. "I… I don’t know where to start."
"Start at the beginning," Dakota said softly, sitting across from her. "We’re here to listen."
As the women gathered around, giving her their undivided attention, Sofia realized something. They weren’t just offering her safety. They were offering her sisterhood. And for the first time since her sister was killed, she wasn’t alone.
But even in the warmth of their care, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were holding something back. There was something unspoken between them, a quiet exchange of glances as if they knew something she didn’t.
"There’s something you’re not telling me," Sofia finally said, narrowing her gaze.
Alaska sighed, shaking her head with a small smile. "We’ll explain everything soon, Sof. Just trust us, okay?"
Sofia exhaled, nodding slowly. She had no choice but to trust them, because whatever was coming next—she had a feeling it was going to change everything.
***
Outside, Goliath remained where he stood, his body a coil of tense energy. His jaw was clenched, his fists still curled at his sides, his wolf howling inside him to go to her, claim her, make sure she was safe. Every fibre of his being demanded that he follow her, that he take her in his arms and never let go, but he forced himself to stay put. He couldn't scare her, not when she was already on edge.
"Fuck, brother, you look like you're about to explode," Dixon muttered, eyeing Goliath warily.
Hunter smirked, shaking his head. "Damn. Never thought I'd see Goliath in this state. That mating bond hits like a truck, huh?"
"Hits harder than that," Dash added, crossing his arms. "You feel like you’re losing your damn mind, don’t you?"
Goliath exhaled sharply, barely listening. His golden eyes were still locked on the door Sofia had disappeared through, his heart hammering in his chest like a war drum.
"It only gets worse," Fang said, stepping forward. "Until she accepts the bond, your wolf won’t rest. It’ll push at you; demand you get closer. But you need to tread carefully. You scare her, you could push her away."
Goliath growled low, frustrated beyond belief. "I don’t like her in there without me."
"You don’t have a choice," Dixon said, his voice matter-of-fact. "And if you go in there now, she’ll think you’re insane. Let the women handle it. They’ll make sure she’s comfortable."
Goliath clenched his fists again, knowing they were right but hating every damn second of it. Every minute she was out of his sight felt wrong, like a part of him had been ripped away.
Just as he was about to stalk toward the door anyway, a deep voice cut through the tension.
"What the hell is going on here?"
The men turned as King approached, his presence commanding as always. His sharp gaze flicked from Goliath’s tense stance to the group of men looking like they had just witnessed a bomb go off. His brows furrowed. "Someone want to tell me why it feels like we about to go to war?"
Dixon let out a chuckle. "Sofia’s here. And she just happens to be Goliath’s mate."
King’s eyes widened slightly before a knowing smirk crossed his face. "Well, shit. That explains a lot."
Goliath exhaled harshly. "I need to be near her."
King’s smirk faded into something more serious. "You need to keep your head. I know what this is like, brother. It’s a bond that controls everything—your instincts, your thoughts, your damn sanity. But you must let her come to you. If you rush this, you’ll scare her off."
Goliath didn’t answer. He just clenched his jaw, nodding stiffly, his wolf still pacing within him, restless and agitated.
King studied him for a long moment before clapping him on the shoulder. "Give her time. She’ll be yours. Just don’t fuck it up."
Over King’s shoulder, Goliath’s sharp eyes caught movement near the motorcycles. His gaze locked onto a familiar figure leaning against one of the bikes—Frost.
Frost had been gone for months on club business, disappearing without much explanation, the way he always did. He wasn’t a man of many words, but his presence had been missed. Goliath wasn’t the type to openly express emotions, but damn if it wasn’t good to see his brother back where he belonged.
Frost, ever the brooding enigma, scowled as their eyes clashed. But then, in that silent way of his, he gave Goliath a slow, acknowledging nod. A silent ‘I see you, brother. I’ve got your back.’ Goliath dipped his chin in return. No words were needed. Frost was fucked up, everyone knew that, but no one ever spoke about why. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that if you ever needed someone to watch your six, Frost was the man you wanted at your side.
The other men began to notice him, and a ripple of reaction moved through the group. Dixon let out a sharp whistle, grinning. "Well, look who finally decided to drag his ass back home."
Hunter clapped a hand against Frost’s shoulder as he walked past. "Thought maybe you found yourself a cave somewhere and turned into a goddamn hermit."
Dash smirked, shaking his head. "Nah, he’s too pretty to be a hermit. Not enough mirrors in a cave."
Frost shakes his head in annoyance as he turns and starts making his way inside.
Despite the jabs, the warmth was clear. Frost was back, and even if he wouldn’t say it out loud, they all knew—this was where he belonged.