Chapter 9
The convoy to the safehouse was tense, every rider on high alert. The women had been packed into black SUVs, their bikes and the club’s usual roaring procession swapped for something more discreet. The Wolverines didn’t take chances when it came to their women.
Goliath, Hunter, Fang, and King rode ahead, their eyes scanning the dark road for any signs of trouble. Behind them, the SUVs moved in formation, flanked by Rip, Diesel, and a few other brothers. Every man’s finger was close to a trigger, ready for a fight.
The safehouse was buried deep in the mountains, an old lodge fortified over the years for emergencies just like this. Steel-reinforced doors, bulletproof glass, an underground storage bunker stocked with supplies, and enough weapons to arm a small militia.
The men moved quickly, securing the perimeter, checking exits, and setting up defences. Cameras were already in place, their feeds monitored from inside. Dash and the prospects spread out, making sure every inch of the property was covered.
“This place is locked down,” Dash assured them. “No one gets in unless we let them.”
Hunter exhaled, scanning the treeline. "We’ve got the cameras up, perimeters covered, and the armoury fully stocked. But we all know that’s not the real problem."
Fang snorted. "Yeah. The problem is making sure these women don’t get any bright ideas."
Hunter crossed his arms. "They’re not stupid, but they’re stubborn as hell. We tell them to stay put, and half of them will be looking for a way to help."
Dash chuckled darkly. "Yeah? And what do you think Dakota’s gonna do if she thinks you’re in trouble? Sit back and knit?"
Fang scowled. "Mystique would gut me in my sleep if I suggested it."
Goliath, silent until now, finally spoke. “We don’t give them a reason to worry. We keep this fight away from them. That’s the only way we make sure they don’t do something reckless.”
Hunter nodded. "That means constant check-ins. We feed them information—just enough to keep them from panicking, but not enough to make them want to act."
King glanced at Dash. "And you. You're in charge here. You and the prospects keep the women from getting any damn ideas. If one of them even thinks about sneaking out, you shut it down."
Dash smirked. "No offense, King, but you ever tried to tell a pissed-off ol’ lady what to do?"
King sighed. "That’s why you are keeping all the prospects. Good luck."
When it came time for the men to leave, tension thickened in the air. Fang stood in front of Mystique, arms crossed as she glared at him. “You come back to me, or I swear I’ll drag your ass out of hell myself.”
He smirked, but there was a hardness in his gaze. “Not planning on dying today, woman.” He brushed a rough knuckle down her cheek before turning away, his body taut with restraint.
Hunter pulled Dakota into a lingering kiss, his large hands cradling her belly, his forehead pressing against hers. “You take care of her,” he whispered to their unborn child, before stepping back and leaving her standing there with unshed tears in her eyes.
Goliath’s arms caged Sofia against him, his grip bruising as he stared down at her. “You stay here and you make sure you stay safe. No matter what.”
Sofia swallowed hard. “And what about you?”
His golden eyes burned into hers. “I will come back to you. Always.” He kissed her, slow and deep, before stepping away.
King was the last to speak. His gaze swept over the gathered women and prospects, his expression hard. “Listen up. Our women are your priority. If anyone gets past us and makes it to this place, you don’t hesitate. You end them. This isn’t just a babysitting job. This is war. Got it?”
The prospects nodded, their postures stiff with determination. Dash exhaled, rolling his shoulders before following the other men to their Harleys. He clapped Fang on the back, then nodded at Blue. "You don’t have to worry, I’ll keep them safe, all of them."
King met his gaze, his expression unreadable before he gave a firm nod. "I know you will."
Dash watched as the men swung their legs over their bikes, their engines roaring to life one by one. He stayed back, waiting until the last of them disappeared down the road before turning back toward the lodge.
What he didn’t expect was the sight of every single woman standing there, watching him.
Fuck, he wanted to turn and make a run for it. Dakota had her arms crossed; brows raised. Siena looked like she was already debating whether to cause trouble. Sofia and Alaska stood close together, both looking far from convinced about their situation. Mystique, Dawn and Onix looked ready to start a fight.
Dash sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “What?”
"So," Dakota drawled, tapping her fingers against her arm, "you’re our babysitter?”
Dash smirked, crossing his arms. "Nah. I'm your warden. And you better believe I'm running a tight ship."
Siena scoffed. "Good luck with that."
"Oh, I don't need luck," Dash said, leaning against the railing. "I just need you all to remember one thing—if you so much as think about sneaking out, I’ll tie every damn one of you and lock you in a closet."
Alaska smirked, "Kinky."
Sofia bit back a laugh as Dash rolled his eyes at his mate. "Look, ladies, I get it. You don’t like being left behind. You want to fight. But this isn’t about proving how tough you are. It’s about keeping you alive. So don’t make me be the asshole who has to stop you from getting killed."
There was a long silence before Dakota finally sighed, throwing her hands up. "Fine. But if anything goes down here, you better let us fight."
Dash’s lips twitched. "Deal. Now, go inside before you give me a damn heart attack." The silence that followed was deafening.
Sofia followed the others into the house, walking into the sitting room, she exhaled sharply, crossing her arms over her chest. “I hate this.”
Dakota huffed. “Welcome to being an ol’ lady.”
Dawn sank onto one of the couches, running a hand through her hair. “We should be used to this by now. But we never are.”
Mystique threw herself onto a chair. “Yeah, and every damn time, we have to sit here and pretend we’re fine, even though we’re ready to tear our hair out.”
Sofia turned to them, curious despite her anxiety. “How do you deal with it?”
Siena shrugged. “You don’t. You just… learn to live with the fact that your man walks a dangerous line every day. And if you love him, you love that part too.”
Dakota nodded. “It never gets easier. But you trust them. You believe they’ll do whatever it takes to come back. And if they don’t—” her voice caught, but she swallowed hard, pressing on, “then we make damn sure their deaths weren’t in vain.”
Sofia stared at them, something heavy settling in her chest. This wasn’t just a club, and these weren’t just bonded mates. These women were warriors in their own right, standing strong while their men fought battles they couldn’t.
Sofia understood. She wasn’t alone in this, she was one of them now.
But even as she laughed along with them, a shadow still lingered deep in her heart. The pain of losing her sister never truly left her, only buried beneath layers of new experiences, new bonds.
The laughter around her was warm, comforting, but it would never be the same as the sound of her sister’s voice. The weight of her loss pressed on her chest, the raw ache of knowing her sister had been stolen from her in the most brutal way possible.
Beneath the surface, there was something darker inside her. Hate, pure, undiluted hatred for the man who had killed her sister. She could still see his face in her nightmares—Grant, the Shadow Riders' VP. The image of him, the cold cruelty in his eyes, the way he had ended her sister’s life without hesitation—it fuelled something in her that she wasn’t sure she could ever let go of.
She clenched her hands into fists, the need for justice—or revenge—burning deep inside her. Would she ever get the chance to make him pay? Would she ever be able to look into his eyes and see fear instead of arrogance?
Sofia took a slow breath, shoving the pain back down where it belonged. For now, she had to focus on surviving. On adapting. But one day, she swore to herself—he would pay.
As the tension slowly eased, the women drifted closer together, finding comfort in their shared bond. They settled into the large open-concept living area, which had a rustic charm—high vaulted ceilings with exposed wooden beams, a massive stone fireplace crackling with warmth, and plush leather couches arranged in a semi-circle. The dining area blended into the space, a long wooden table stretching across one side, its surface already cluttered with coffee cups, weapons, and a deck of cards someone had left out.
"So," Siena said, plopping onto one of the couches, stretching her legs out. "How do we keep from losing our minds while they’re out there?"
Alaska leaned back, smirking. "Easy. We distract ourselves. We talk. We drink—if Dash doesn’t keep the booze locked up."
Sofia smiled, feeling the warmth of their companionship settle inside her. She had spent so much of her life keeping her distance from people, never fully trusting anyone. But here, these women—they had already taken her in.
Dakota shifted on the couch, absently rubbing a hand over her growing belly. "We could also start getting things ready. I still need to figure out a nursery back at the clubhouse. Haven’t even decided on a colour."
Siena’s eyes softened. "How are you feeling?"
Dakota sighed. "Honestly? I’m excited. Scared as hell, but excited. Hunter’s over the moon. The man’s ready to tear anyone apart if I so much as flinch the wrong way."
Alaska snorted. "Typical. You’re carrying a Wolverine MC heir. They’d burn the world down for that baby."
Sofia watched Dakota, noting the way her hands instinctively cradled her stomach. There was so much love there, so much strength. She envied that—that certainty in something bigger than fear.
"What about you, Sofia?" Dakota asked, tilting her head. "How are you holding up?"
Sofia hesitated before exhaling. "I think… I’m adjusting. Faster than I thought I would. It’s not easy, but—" she looked around at them, "—I’m starting to understand."
Siena smirked. "You mean you’re starting to understand that once a Wolverine man claims you, there’s no getting rid of him?"
Sofia laughed. "Yeah. That, too."
They all laughed, a sound that was warming her heart.
Alaska smirked, leaning closer. "Speaking of which... how the hell are you still walking after last night?"
Sofia's face flamed, and she immediately covered it with her hands as laughter erupted around her.
"Oh, come on!" Siena grinned, nudging her. "We’ve all seen the way Goliath looks at you. Like he’s two seconds away from throwing you over his shoulder and locking you in his damn room for the rest of eternity."
Dakota snickered. "And let’s be honest, that man is built like a beast. He’s got to be—"
"STOP!" Sofia groaned, mortified as the women howled with laughter.
"What? We’re just saying what everyone’s thinking!" Alaska teased. "I mean, we all know our men are obsessed when they find their mate. But Goliath? That man is hornier than a damn teenager."
Sofia’s stomach twisted—not in embarrassment, but in heat. Because the truth was, she loved it. She loved the way he touched her, the way he claimed her like she was his whole world.
"You’re blushing," Siena pointed out, eyes gleaming with mischief. "That means you like it."
Sofia groaned, covering her face again. "He’s just... intense."
"Intense?" Alaska snorted. "That man growled at a prospect for breathing too close to you! You better believe that when all this is over, he’s going to keep you tied to his damn bed for days."
Sofia’s pulse spiked, and the worst part. She wasn’t entirely against the idea.