Page 10 of Arch (Wolf Rider MC Daddies #3)

Keegan

The clubhouse is alive tonight, buzzing with the kind of energy that only comes after a hard-won fight…

The air’s thick with beer, smoke, and the low thrum of Metallica pouring from the jukebox, but it’s different from the first time I stepped through these doors.

That night, I was a stranger, a hothead looking for trouble, my boots barely touching the ground before Arch’s steel-gray eyes pinned me in place.

Now, I’m not just some drifter stirring shit.

I’m one of them —a Wolf Rider, or damn close to it—and the weight of that sits heavy in my chest, not like a chain but like a badge.

I lean against the bar, a beer in my hand, watching the chaos unfold.

Clay’s at the pool table, his arm slung around Dylan, who’s laughing loud enough to drown out the music.

Jace is nearby, Caleb tucked against his side, their quiet ease a mirror to what I’m starting to feel with Arch.

Tank’s holding court in a corner, his busted lip barely slowing his stories about the warehouse fight, and the other guys—Razor, the prospects, the whole crew—are scattered around, their voices a rough chorus of loyalty and grit.

The Wolf Rider emblem, that snarling wolf with crossed pistons, looms on the wall, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like it’s judging me. It feels like it’s welcoming me home…

A few days have passed since we took down the Vipers, since Jinx’s betrayal cut us deep and Arch’s arms around me stitched something new together inside me.

I’m still bruised, my cheek sporting a cut that’s starting to scar, but the pain’s a reminder of what I’ve earned.

I went into that warehouse a reckless kid, half-ready to bolt, and came out with Arch’s trust, his love, and a place in this family.

I’m not patched yet—Clay says that takes time, proving yourself over months, not days—but I’m no longer on the outside looking in…

I’m here, and I’m staying .

Arch is across the room, talking low with Clay, his hair catching the light, his leather jacket hugging his broad, strong shoulders.

Arch is every inch a leader of men, the strategist who kept us alive against the Vipers, but when his eyes find mine, there’s something softer there, something just for me.

My pulse kicks up, same as it did that first night at The Ring when I called him Daddy to mess with him, not knowing it’d spark something real. I’m not fighting it anymore, that pull between us.

I’m not running. Not tonight. Not any night from here on out.

I sip my beer, letting my mind wander back over the last week. I came to Willow Creek lost, kicked out of the Army with a dishonorable discharge burning a hole in my pride.

Two years of thinking I’d found my place… only to lose it with one bad punch, one wrong move.

I was twenty-two, aimless, with nothing but a bike and a temper. Willow Creek was just a pitstop, a place to crash before I tore off to nowhere.

Then Arch happened.

He saw through my bullshit, saw the potential I didn’t even believe in, and instead of writing me off, he challenged me. Pushed me. Made me want to be more than the screw-up I thought I was.

That night at The Ring, I was all bravado, throwing punches and smirking like I owned the world.

But Arch’s voice—“You’re in my town, Keegan”—cut through me like a blade, and his presence woke something up I didn’t know was sleeping.

I fought it, sure.

Kept mouthing off, kept pushing, because that’s what I do.

But every time he pinned me with those eyes, every time he growled “boy” like it was a promise, I felt it—the chance to belong, to be his .

The Wolf Riders aren’t just a club… they’re a family, bound by blood and trust, and Arch’s offering me a place in it.

That spanking outside the clubhouse, my ass red and stinging while the crew watched, should’ve broken me. Instead, it grounded me, made me see I could take his rules, his discipline, and come out stronger.

And when I went into that warehouse, got the intel, got out alive, I proved it—to him, to myself.

I’m not the same Keegan who rolled into Willow Creek. I’m still reckless, still mouthy, but I’ve got purpose now. Arch gave me that, and I’ll spend every damn day proving I’m worth it.

Back in the here and now, the music dips, and Clay’s voice booms over the crowd, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Alright, you bastards, listen up!” He’s standing on a chair, his grin wide, Dylan beaming beside him. “We’ve got something to celebrate tonight. The Vipers are gone, their operation burned to the ground, thanks in no small part to our boy Keegan and his ballsy recon work.”

The room erupts in cheers, fists pounding tables, and I feel my face heat, not used to this kind of attention.

Tank raises his beer, shouting, “To Keegan, the crazy sonofabitch who took on Rico and lived!”

Laughter ripples through the crowd, and I grin, raising my bottle in return.

But it’s Arch’s movement that catches my eye. He steps forward, his presence commanding the room without effort, and the noise quiets, every eye on him.

My heart thuds, because I know that look—he’s got something to say, and it’s big…

“Keegan,” Arch says, his voice low but carrying, those gray eyes locked on me.

“You came into this club a wildfire, burning hot and out of control. Most would’ve written you off, but I saw something else.

Guts. Heart. A man worth betting on.” He pauses, stepping closer, the crowd parting for him.

“You proved yourself out there, not just to the club but to me. You’re not just a prospect, not just my boy.

You’re my partner, Keegan, in every damn way that matters.

And I’m proud to stand with you tonight and every night. ”

The room explodes again, cheers and whistles, but I barely hear it.

My throat’s tight, my chest full, because Arch just claimed me in front of everyone, not as a dumb asshole kid to be tamed but as his equal .

I’m not just the troublemaker anymore.

I’m Arch’s, and he is mine, and the weight of that hits me harder than any punch I’ve ever taken.

I step forward, meeting him halfway, and the crowd quiets, sensing the moment.

“Arch,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel, “I was lost when I got here. Didn’t know what I was looking for, but you gave it to me. A home. A purpose. You.” I swallow, the words raw but true. “I’m all in, Daddy. For you, for the Wolves, for us.”

My Daddy’s eyes soften, that rare warmth breaking through, and he pulls me into a hug, his arms strong and sure.

The club roars, bottles clinking, and I feel it—the belonging I’ve been chasing since the Army spit me out.

This is my place, my family, and Arch is my love.

Clay slaps my back, laughing.

“Alright, lovebirds, save it for later,” Clay bellows. “We’ve got a party to throw!”

The music kicks back up, and the night rolls on, but Arch’s hand stays on mine, grounding me through the chaos.

We drink, laugh, swap stories with the crew, and I catch Dylan and Caleb grinning at us, their own Daddies pulling them close.

It’s easy, this life, now that I’m not fighting it.

But I need a moment with Arch, just us, to seal this thing we’ve built…

“Hey,” I murmur, leaning into him, my lips brushing his ear. “Wanna get out of here for a bit?”

Arch’s smirk is all silver Daddy charm, and he nods, leading me out the back door to the gravel lot.

The night’s cool, the stars sharp above us, and the distant hum of Willow Creek feels like it’s ours.

We lean against his Harley, the metal cold under my hands, and for a moment, we just stand there, the silence full of everything we don’t need to say.

“Arch,” I start, my voice low, “I mean it. I’m not running anymore. This—us, the club—it’s what I want. I’m yours, not just as your boy but as your partner. Forever .”

He turns to me, his hand cupping my jaw, his thumb tracing the scar on my cheek.

“Keegan, you’ve got no idea how much you’ve changed me,” he says, his voice rough with feeling.

“I’ve spent my life keeping things together, outsmarting every threat, but you?

You’re the one thing I didn’t see coming, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love you, boy. My partner, my home.”

Arch kisses me, slow and deep, and it’s like the world rights itself.

His lips are warm, tasting of whiskey and promise, and I press closer, my hands gripping onto his jacket, anchoring myself to him.

This is us , choosing each other, building something that’ll last.

We pull back, foreheads pressed together, and I smile, feeling lighter than I have in years.

“So, Daddy, you gonna keep me in line forever?” I tease, my grin sharp.

Arch chuckles, his hand sliding to my waist.

“Count on it, boy,” Arch replies. “But you’re not just mine to keep in line. You’re mine to ride with, to fight with, to love. And I’m yours.”

We stand there, wrapped in each other, until the clubhouse door swings open, Clay’s voice cutting through.

“You two done making out?” Clay snorts. “Get your asses in gear, we’re heading out for a ride!”

I laugh, and Arch pulls me toward the bikes, where the whole crew’s gathering—Clay, Jace, Dylan, Caleb, Tank, Razor, the prospects, and their boys, all leather and chrome under the setting sun.

The sky’s a blaze of orange and pink, the kind of sunset that makes you feel like the road goes on forever.

We mount up, Arch’s Harley rumbling beside mine, and I feel it—the freedom, the family, the future…

As we roll out, the Wolf Riders a tight pack, I glance at Arch, his profile sharp against the fading light.

There’s more to come—more fights, more challenges, maybe even another crew like the Vipers trying to take what’s ours.

But with Arch by my side, the club at my back, I’m ready for it.

I’m not the lone troublemaker anymore. I’m a Wolf Rider, tethered to my Daddy, my partner, my home.

The road stretches ahead, endless and wild, and as we ride into the sunset, I know this is just the start.

For Arch and me, for the Wolves, for whatever adventures wait around the next bend.

Ride or die, Wolf Rider style.