Page 8 of Arch (Wolf Rider MC Daddies #3)

Keegan

I’m still reeling from what went down at Arch’s place, the way his hands claimed me, his voice grounding me even as it set me ablaze and he gave me the kind of mind-blowing fuck that only a Daddy can deliver.

His words after we made love echo in my head, a challenge I can’t ignore. Arch made it clear… if I want more of him, I have to commit the whole way.

There’s no middle ground with Arch—and that’s just the way things are with me too.

Except now I know that I need to make a decision…

I’ve spent my life running from rules, from anything that felt like a cage, but Arch’s different. He’s not just demanding submission… he’s offering a place to belong, a purpose I haven’t had since the Army spit me out.

And damn it, I want to prove I’m worth it—to him, to the club, to myself.

I pull up to the Wolf Riders’ clubhouse, the gravel crunching under my bike’s tires, the chain-link fence and razor wire ever present.

The place is quieter than usual, but the air’s heavy with tension, like a storm’s brewing.

The Vipers’ ambush on the shipment and Clay’s text about a traitor have everyone on edge. This is a tricky time for the Wolf Riders, and I can see why Arch is demanding so much from me. He needs to know that I’m not some dumb kid who will cut and run the second things get tough.

And I’m going to show him that I’m not. In fact, I’m going to move to Arch— Daddy —that I can be everything he needs and a whole lot more.

I cut the engine, my heart pounding, not just from the ride but from what I’m about to do. I’m not a Wolf, not even close, but I’m done sitting on the sidelines. If I want Arch’s respect, I’ve got to earn it.

Inside, the clubhouse is abuzz with activity.

Clay’s at the pool table, talking low with Jace, while Dylan and Caleb linger nearby, their ease with each other a reminder of what I could have with Arch if I stop fighting him.

Tank’s in a corner, cleaning a pistol, his bulk making the chair look like a toy.

Meanwhile Arch is at the head of the table, his gray eyes scanning a map, his silver-streaked hair catching the light. He looks up as I walk in, and for a second, the world narrows to just us, his stare cutting through me like it did last night, full of heat and something deeper.

“Keegan,” Arch says, voice low, no trace of the softness that was there after we got down and dirty. “Didn’t expect you back so soon.”

I shrug, forcing a grin to hide the nerves twisting my gut.

“Figured I’d stop running my mouth and start proving I can handle this.” I nod toward the map. “The traitor. He’s scum, whoever he is. I want in on whatever you’re planning.”

The room goes quiet, every eye on me.

Clay raises an eyebrow, Jace smirks, and Tank lets out a low whistle. Arch leans back, crossing his arms, his expression unreadable.

“You’re not a Rider, kid,” Arch says, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, like he’s testing me. “This is deep shit. You sure you’re ready?”

“I saved your shipment last night, didn’t I,” I say, stepping closer, my voice steady despite the adrenaline. “I’m not here to polish bikes. Let me prove I can do more.”

Arch studies me, his jaw tight, and I feel the weight of his doubt, his fear that I’ll fuck this up.

But I also see the want, the same fire from last night, and it gives me the guts to keep pushing.

“I’m ex-military,” I add. “I’ve done recon, handled worse than a few Vipers. You can believe me on that. Just give me a shot.”

Clay clears his throat, breaking the tension.

“Kid’s got guts, Arch,” Clay comments, his eyes moving between me and Arch. “We need someone who can move fast, stay quiet. Tank and Jinx are good, but they’re not exactly stealthy. No offence, Tank.”

“Hey, none taken!” Tank chuckles, still busy cleaning his gun.

Arch’s eyes don’t leave mine, and I can tell he’s weighing the risk—me, a loose cannon, versus the chance I might actually pull this off.

Finally, Arch nods, slow and deliberate.

“Alright, Keegan. Recon only,” Arch says, his voice serious and controlled. “You scout the Vipers’ warehouse on Route 17, look for signs of who’s feeding them intel. No heroics, no fights. You get in, you get out, you report back. Fuck this up, and you’re done .”

I nod, my chest tight with a mix of fear and excitement.

“I won’t let you down, Daddy,” I say. The D-word slips out, half-tease, half-promise, and I see the way his eyes darken, the way his breath catches. The room chuckles, but Arch’s stare is all fire, and I know I’ve got his attention.

The plan is simple… slip into the Vipers’ warehouse under cover of night, check their records, eavesdrop if I can, and get out without being seen.

Jinx briefs me on the layout, Tank hands me a burner phone, and Arch watches me the whole time, his expression a mix of pride and worry.

Before I know it, I’m geared up—black hoodie, knife in my boot, flashlight—and I head out as dusk falls, the weight of Arch’s trust heavier than the blade against my ankle…

The warehouse is a rusted hulk, same as last night, but now it’s crawling with Vipers. I park my bike a half-mile out, hidden in the trees, and creep closer, sticking to the shadows.

My Army training kicks in, keeping my steps silent, my breathing steady.

Stay calm.

Assess the surroundings.

Be decisive.

I find a side door, jimmy it open with a trick I learned in basic training, and slip inside.

The place smells of oil and weed, crates stacked high, voices echoing from a back room.

I move fast, checking labels, snapping photos of shipping manifests with the burner.

One name stands out—Rico, a low-level Viper, but the manifests list him as a contact for a supplier we don’t know.

Could he be the link?

I’m about to dig deeper when a door slams, and footsteps approach. My heart jumps, and I duck behind a crate, holding my breath…

Two Vipers pass, one muttering about a “rat in the Riders” and a meet with someone called “the boss” tomorrow night.

I’ve got what I need, but as I turn to leave, my boot catches a loose pipe. Fuck . The pipe clatters, loud as a gunshot in the quiet, and the voices stop.

“Who’s there?” a Viper barks, and I’m running before I think, sprinting for the door as shouts erupt behind me.

I make it outside, but a hand grabs my jacket, yanking me back. It’s Rico, the guy from the manifests, his face twisted with rage.

“You’re fucked, kid,” he snarls, and before I can swing, another Viper clocks me with a pipe.

Pain explodes in my skull, and the world goes black…

I come to in a storage room, zip-tied to a chair, my head throbbing.

Rico’s pacing, a gun in his hand, while another Viper—a wiry guy with a snake tattoo—watches me.

“Wolf Rider’s boy,” Rico sneers. “You’re gonna tell us what Arch knows…”

I force a grin, my mouth dry.

“Don’t know shit, man,” I say. “I’m just the errand boy.”

My mind is racing, remembering every escape drill I ever ran.

The zip ties are tight, but the chair’s old, the armrest loose. I keep talking, playing dumb, while I work the armrest, feeling it give.

“You really think Arch trusts me with anything?” I laugh, trying to walk the line between genuinely seeming like I’m not connected and not provoking them. “I’m a nobody.”

Rico laughs, but he’s distracted, arguing with the other guy about calling “the boss.”

This is my chance.

It could be my only opportunity.

Fucking go-go-go!

I seize the moment, snapping the armrest free and using it to smash the wiry guy’s knee. He screams, dropping, and I’m on my feet, cutting the zip ties with a jagged edge from the broken chair.

Rico lunges, but I’m faster, slamming him into a crate, my fist connecting with his jaw. He’s out cold , and I’m running, dodging crates, my head pounding but my focus sharp.

I make it to the trees, find my bike, and peel out, the burner phone still in my pocket with the photos intact.

“Holy hell, that was fucking wild!” I scream as I ride away, full-throttle and with my heart feeling like it might explode.

By the time I hit the clubhouse, it’s past midnight, and I’m a mess—blood on my face, my hoodie torn.

Arch is outside, pacing, his face a storm of worry and fury when he sees me.

“Keegan!” Arch barks, striding over, grabbing my shoulders. “What the fuck happened? You were supposed to be in and out!”

“I got the intel,” I say, holding up the burner, my voice hoarse. “Rico’s the link. He’s meeting their supplier tomorrow night. I heard them talking about a rat in the Riders.”

I’m shaking, not from fear but from the adrenaline, the relief of being back, of seeing him… Daddy.

Arch’s eyes blaze, his grip tightening.

“You got caught, didn’t you? You could’ve been killed, you reckless little sonofagun!” Arch roars. His voice cracks, and I see it—the fear, raw and real, that he almost lost me. It hits me harder than the pipe did, knowing I matter that much to him.

“I got out,” I say, stepping closer, my hands on his chest. “I used my head, Arch. I proved I can handle it.”

Arch pulls me against him, his arms crushing me to his chest, and for a moment, we just stand there, his heart pounding against mine.

“You scared the hell out of me, sweet boy” Arch murmurs, his voice rough, his lips brushing my temple. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

I tilt my head, meeting his gaze, and the air crackles between us.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper, the word soft, sincere, not a taunt this time. “I’ll try harder. I’ll follow your rules. I want this—us, the club, all of it. But you know I can’t promise to stay out of trouble…”

Arch laughs, and his eyes soften as he cups my face, his thumb brushing the blood from my lip.

“You’re mine, Keegan,” Arch says, his voice low, fierce. “And I’m not losing you. Not to the Vipers, not to your own damn recklessness.”

Then he kisses me, slow and deep, not the desperate fire of previously, but something tender, something that feels like a promise.

I melt into the kiss, my hands grabbing his jacket, and for the first time, I let myself believe I could belong—to him, to this Wolf Rider life.

We pull back, breathless, and he rests his forehead against mine.

“This shit with the Vipers ends now,” Arch says, his voice hard again. “I’m taking them down, and I’m rooting out this traitor. You’re with me, but you follow my lead, understand?”

I nod, my heart singing.

Arch is not just a fling, not just a challenge. Far from it.

Arch cares, maybe more than I realized, and the way he’s looking at me, like I’m his to protect, to guide—it makes me wonder if he’s my Forever Daddy, the one I’ve been running from but always needed.

“I’m with you,” I say, meaning it. “Show me how a Wolf Rider does kicks ass.”

Arch smirks, that silver charm flashing, and I know whatever comes next, we’re in it together. Ride or die, Wolf Rider style…