Chapter 4
The clubhouse was alive with movement, the low murmur of voices blending with the occasional clink of beer bottles and the scrape of chairs against the wooden floor. Sofia sat stiffly on the couch in the common room, her fingers tangled together in her lap as she tried not to let her discomfort show. The weight of too many eyes on her made her skin itch.
She could feel them watching, assessing. Not with malice—at least, not that she could tell—but with curiosity, maybe even amusement. She was an outsider here, and that was a fact she couldn’t ignore.
The men of Wolverine MC were nothing like the Shadow Riders in appearance, yet something about them still unsettled her. They carried themselves with the same confidence, the same air of power and authority that she had seen in Grant and his men. It was a kind of dominance that told her they didn’t take orders from anyone but their own. And that terrified her. Because the last time she had trusted a group of men like this, her sister had died, and she had barely escaped with her life.
Sofia’s stomach twisted as the voices around her became background noise, her mind spiralling into worst-case scenarios. Had she just traded one dangerous club for another? Was she safe here, or had Alaska unknowingly handed her over to a different kind of monster?
“Relax, babe.” Alaska’s voice cut through her thoughts, making her jerk slightly. “No one here is gonna hurt you. Well, unless you piss them off, but that’s just common sense.” She smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
Sofia tried to return the smile, but it faltered. “I just… I don’t know how to do this. Be here. Trust this.”
Dakota, sitting beside her, leaned forward. “I get it. This world, the way we live, it’s not easy to understand from the outside. But we’re not like the Shadow Riders, Sofia. We don’t take what isn’t ours. We protect what is.”
Sofia’s brow furrowed. “But you’re still an MC. You still… fight. Kill.”
Siena nodded. “Yeah, we do. When we have to. The difference is, we don’t prey on the weak. We don’t use people for power. If someone crosses us, they get what’s coming, but we don’t hurt innocents. That’s what sets us apart from clubs like the Shadow Riders.”
Sofia swallowed, glancing around at the men—some joking, some watching her with unreadable expressions. The weight of their presence still loomed over her, but for the first time, she saw something else beneath the rough exterior. Loyalty. Brotherhood. Honor.
Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the same.
From across the room, Goliath watched her. His entire body was tense, his fingers twitching at his sides as he forced himself to stay back. She was too far away. Too surrounded. Too unprotected.
His wolf snarled inside him, pacing, restless. Go to her. Pull her away from them. Take her somewhere only you can be near her.
But he couldn’t. Not yet. He had seen the fear in her eyes, the hesitation. She wasn’t ready for him, and that burned more than anything. She was his, but she didn’t know it yet.
Every time she shifted uncomfortably, every time one of the men so much as glanced at her, his possessiveness sharpened. She’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to keep.
When she suddenly looked up, her blue eyes meeting his, the air between them crackled. She inhaled sharply, and he saw it—the pull. She felt it too, but she didn’t understand it. Not yet.
Goliath’s muscles coiled as he took an unconscious step forward, but before he could get any closer, King’s voice cut through the room. “Alright, business. If you don’t need to be here, clear the room.”
The meeting was starting, and he had to tear himself away from her. He forced himself to turn, but his wolf was already screaming in protest.
As Goliath followed the others into the meeting room, his patience wore thinner by the second. His body was rigid, his mind still on Sofia, but King’s sharp voice forced him to focus.
"We’ve got an arms run coming up. Goliath, Frost, Fang, Hunter—you’re riding point. Tim, you’re tagging along to learn how this shit works," King said, leaning over the table. "We’re meeting our contact outside the city. Standard pickup, but we take every job like it could go south."
Frost crossed his arms. "Who’s the contact?"
"A group out of Louisiana. They’ve been reliable before, but that don’t mean shit until the deal is done."
Hunter ran a hand through his beard. "What’s the route?"
King tapped a map spread across the table. "We’ll be riding through open highway for the first half, but the last stretch takes us through backroads. Less visibility. Less risk of heat. But more chance of an ambush."
Goliath barely heard the words. He knew the job, he knew what needed to be done, but his gut twisted with frustration. Now. Now, when his mate was in the clubhouse, King was sending him away.
King must have noticed his tension because he levelled a look at Goliath. "I know you’re pissed. I know what your wolf is doing to you right now. But this run is important. And if you’re being honest with yourself, getting away for a few hours might be the best thing for you."
Goliath’s jaw ticked. "Leaving her here when she doesn’t know what she means to me? Leaving her unguarded?"
"She’s not unguarded. She’s got the women and the club at her back. And you being here, prowling around like a caged animal, is going to do more damage than good."
Fang smirked. "Shit, he’s right. The more you hover, the more you’re gonna scare her off."
Goliath growled low, but King shut it down with a glare. "She’s not ready for you yet. Let her breathe, let her understand what’s happening before you come at her full force."
Goliath’s hands clenched at his sides; his entire body coiled tight. But King was right. He hated it, but he was right.
"We ride out in an hour," King said, closing the discussion. "Gear up and be ready."
***
After breakfast, Alaska insisted on taking her into town with some of the women. “You need new clothes. Unless you plan on walking around in borrowed shirts for the rest of your life.”
Sofia hesitated but eventually agreed. Maybe a break from the club was what she needed. She had no idea how wrong she was.
Two prospects, Diesel and Rip, accompanied them. The men weren’t overbearing, but their presence was a reminder that this was still dangerous territory. Sofia tried to ignore the tension coiling in her stomach as they walked through the small town’s main street, stopping in front of a boutique. She was about to step inside when she heard the unmistakable sound of motorcycles rolling up behind them. Sofia’s blood ran cold.
She turned slowly, her heart slamming against her ribs as three men wearing Shadow Riders MC cuts dismounted their bikes, their eyes locking onto her like a predator spotting wounded prey.
“Well, well,” one of them sneered, his gaze raking over her. “Isn’t this a surprise?”
Diesel immediately stepped in front of her, his voice dark. “Keep walking, boys.”
One of the Shadow Riders smirked, not backing down. “Didn’t know the Wolverines were into babysitting strays.”
Rip shifted beside Diesel, his stance coiled and ready. “Say another word, and you’ll find out exactly what we do to rats like you.”
The tension was suffocating, the hostility rolling off them in waves. Sofia could feel her knees locking, her breath stuttering. Not again. She couldn’t go through this again.
Just as her breath hitched, and the weight of her fear threatened to consume her, movement beside her made her flinch. But instead of shrinking away, she felt warmth—Dakota, Siena, and Alaska stepping up beside her, shoulders squared, eyes locked on the Shadow Riders like they were ready for a damn war.
Sofia blinked, stunned. These women—who she had barely known, who owed her nothing—stood beside her, placing themselves between her and danger without hesitation. It was a silent declaration: She wasn’t alone anymore.
Alaska tilted her head slightly, her voice laced with dangerous amusement. "I’d rethink your next words, asshole."
The Shadow Rider who had spoken shifted his attention to her, sneering. "You Wolverines getting soft? Protecting stray bitches now?"
Siena took a step forward, her tone deceptively sweet. "Say that again, and I’ll make sure your next piss comes out of a tube."
The men stiffened, their bravado slipping, but the leader of the trio scoffed. "You bitches don’t scare me."
Diesel chuckled darkly. "That’s because you’re stupid."
Rip’s knuckles cracked at his sides. "Real stupid."
The tension tightened like a noose. Diesel, never one to waste time, pulled out his phone and dialled.
The Shadow Riders immediately tensed, their confidence wavering. They weren’t idiots. They knew what happened when you picked a fight you couldn’t win. The leader spat on the ground, his lip curling in disgust. "This isn’t over."
"You’re right," Diesel said, his voice eerily calm. "It ain’t. And next time, we won’t be so nice."
With one last glare, the Shadow Riders got back on their bikes and peeled away, but Sofia knew the truth, they would be back.
***
The roar of engines filled the air as Goliath and the others rolled back into the clubhouse lot. Dust kicked up in thick clouds around their tires as they came to a stop, dismounting in a practiced, fluid motion. The adrenaline from the arms run was still pulsing through his veins, but it wasn’t enough to override the gnawing sense of unease that had been clawing at him since he left.
Frost wiped a hand across his jaw, stretching out stiff shoulders. "Smooth deal. Not bad."
Hunter smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah, for once, no one tried to fuck us over. Almost boring."
Fang huffed. "We don’t get ‘boring.’ We get ‘calm before the storm.’"
Goliath barely registered their words. His head was on a swivel, scanning the lot, the entrance to the clubhouse, the shadows between parked bikes. Something was off, too quiet.
His eyes flicked to the bar where one of the Blossoms—Maggie—stood wiping down a glass, humming softly. He stalked toward her, his heavy boots thudding against the floor.
"Where is everyone?" he asked, his voice tight.
Maggie paused, glancing up at him with a confused frown. "The women went into town with Diesel and Rip."
Everything inside Goliath locked up. His pulse spiked. His muscles coiled. His wolf slammed against his skin, howling in fury. They took Sofia out. Into the open. Into danger.
His nostrils flared, his hands clenching into fists. He snapped around, storming toward his bike. Stupid. Reckless. Fucking dangerous. He barely heard the footsteps behind him, but he knew the others had caught onto his tension.
"What’s wrong?" Fang asked, his tone shifting to something more alert.
"Sofia’s in town," Goliath ground out, his voice a barely contained growl. "With only Diesel and Rip."
Hunter cursed. "Shit. That’s not enough muscle, not with the Shadow Riders sniffing around."
Frost was already reaching for his keys. "We are heading out?"
Before Goliath could answer, his phone buzzed. The second he looked at his phone, his world stopped.
Diesel. Call incoming.
Goliath was already moving before he answered. “What?”
Diesel’s voice was tight. “We had company. Shadow Riders. They’re gone now.”
Goliath saw red.
He didn’t wait. He didn’t stop. He threw a leg over his Harley, his entire body locked with rage as the engine roared to life. King called after him, but Goliath didn’t care. She was out there. Without him. And she had been in danger. His wolf howled, his fury uncontainable.
Sofia was his. And if anyone thought they could get close to her without going through him first, they were about to learn the hard way.
"Where? Goliath barked into the phone, his voice a low growl.
"Boutique on Main Street," Diesel replied, the tension in his voice clear. "We handled it, but they know she’s here now."
Goliath didn’t waste another second. He peeled out of the clubhouse lot in a cloud of dust, his brothers hot on his tail. The ride into town was a blur, his vision tunnelled, his grip iron-tight around the handlebars. His wolf thrashed inside him, demanding speed, demanding he get to her now.
By the time they roared down Main Street, Goliath’s eyes scanned the sidewalks, the shop fronts, the people. Then he saw her.
Sofia stood near the boutique entrance, arms wrapped around herself, her posture tense. Dakota and Siena were beside her, talking to Diesel and Rip, their own bodies still taut from the encounter. She was safe. But that didn’t lessen the rage curling inside him.
The moment his boots hit the pavement, he was moving toward her, his long strides eating up the distance. The others had barely dismounted when arguments erupted between the men and the women.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" Hunter snapped at Diesel.
"We had it under control," Diesel shot back, scowling.
"Yeah? And what if you didn’t? What if they had more men?" Fang growled, running a hand over his face.
Goliath barely heard them. His focus was singular. Sofia. She turned at the last second, startled by the force of his presence. Before she could react, he reached out and grabbed her wrist—firm, but not rough. His golden eyes burned into hers, a silent demand.
"Come," he ordered, his voice clipped.
Sofia should have hesitated. She should have argued, resisted. But she didn’t. Something in his voice, in his command, settled inside her, making her move before she could question herself. She stepped forward and climbed onto the back of his bike, her hands cautiously resting against his sides.
Goliath didn’t wait. Didn’t look back. The moment she was on, he was gone.
***
The engine roared beneath her as they tore down the road, leaving the others behind. Her pulse raced, but not from fear. From something else. She should have been afraid. She should have demanded answers, should have insisted that she stay behind with the others. But for some reason, she didn’t.
Something about Goliath made her trust him. And that made no damn sense at all.
The wind whipped against her face, but it did little to cool the heat crawling up her spine. She felt safe like this, pressed against his broad back, his strength solid beneath her hands. It was insane, but for the first time since she had been running, the weight of constant terror eased just a little.
Goliath’s grip on the handlebars was unrelenting, his muscles tense. She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel the fury rolling off him in waves. But there was something else beneath the rage—something hotter, something darker.
When they pulled into the clubhouse lot, he parked with a sharp jerk and was off the bike before she could even process it. He turned, reaching for her—his hands firm as he helped her off.
Then, without a word, without a backward glance, he turned on his heel and strode away, his shoulders rigid, his fists clenched.
Sofia stood there, staring after him, confusion twisting in her chest. What the hell had just happened?"