Page 11 of Forced By the Alpha

“You get used to it.”

“Why would I want to?” She pushed the drink back at him, and he took it, brushing his fingers against hers. She pulled them back as if burned, but not before he saw dark patches staining them. Paint? Ink? He wanted to ask, wanted to know more about her, but he still didn’t even know her name.

“Sometimes even the most revolting things can become something you rather enjoy.”

Her hazel eyes fixed on his, a challenge in her glare and in her lifted chin. “I’d rather die than take another sip of that.”

Devon drew back, knew her sting was not for the whiskey, and that he couldn’t blame her for it. Still, it plucked at a string deep inside him. One he was tired of having plucked. He got to his feet and dropped the whiskey bottle on her nightstand, the glass beside it.

“I’d reconsider that philosophy, Rosewood. For your health.”

A twitch of fear ran across her face. Good. Her situation was dire, and the sooner she realized that, the sooner she’d fall into line as he needed her to. He didn’t need her to be happy, didn’t need her to be willing, he just needed her.

He left without another backward glance. Fear was a palpable thing. Dev could sense it radiating off of her no matter how stubbornly she tried to hide it. He’d use it to shape her, mold her into the mate that would save the pack.

Something crashed into the door he’d just closed, shattered with an explosion of noise. His glass, the whiskey bottle, or both? Expensive bottle, that was. And an expensive glass, too, for that matter.

“Everything okay in there?” Jonah appeared at the top of the stairs, nodding toward Beth’s door.

“Yeah, we’ve made some real progress tonight.” Dev pushed his fingers through his hair and nudged Jonah with his shoulder on his way by. His Beta fell into step beside him.

“Oh yeah? In what direction?” Jonah looked back over his shoulder. “I can make a guess. There’s always tomorrow.”

“Somehow, I don’t think tomorrow is going to go much better. Don’t tell Em, okay?”

Jonah caught him by the arm. “I wouldn’t, man, you know that.”

“Until she gives you that look and you crumble, I know how it goes. She’s got her ways and shameless about using them.”

“Give me some credit. Anyway, she’s got her eye on Caleb now. The second she found out about that human girl, woof. You know how she feels about competition. Got her all spun up.”

“Honestly, good. I'd rather she was focused on that shit than on what I’m doing.”

Jonah let out a low whistle, shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’re fooling yourself if you think she cares about anything more than she cares about another female in the pack. Competition, remember? And this one is way, way closer to home. You get a mate, stabilize this pack, have some fat little babies? Her position goes down. Way down.”

“And here I was thinking she’d be the doting aunt.”

“Girl troubles. Not even the alpha is free of ‘em.”

Dev thought of the Rosewood girl lying in her room, leg broken, heartbroken, and hating him with every hair on her perfect head. He was knee-deep in girl troubles, and the only way out was through.

Chapter 5 - Beth

Beth could pretend she was out for a regular walk if she didn't look behind her. The grounds surrounding the pack’s house were manicured to look wild, dotted with native shrubs and plants, cut through with meandering, stone paths. It reminded her of the sort of wealthy people who spent thousands to look sloppy.

In the shadow of the house’s rounded veranda, Beth paused. Her jailers stopped a few feet away. One of them was Jonah. The other, hawk-faced, scowling, hadn’t introduced himself. Fine by her. She didn’t need to know their names. She only needed to know how many there were.

Her leg still throbbed if she moved too quickly, but she was able to limp about the grounds at a pace the hawkish man had called, “slower than his grandmother.” Once she knew how much it irritated him, she walked even slower.

“The garden is right through there.” Jonah pointed down the pathway, where a dense wall of shrub curled into a natural archway. “There’s a pond and some flowers. I don’t know what they’re called, though. Do you know, Jamie?”

The man grunted. “Do I look like the gardener?”

Beth put her finger to her lip and pretended to consider the question, looking the White Winter up and down. “No, just a neanderthal.”

He rounded on her, hands clenching into fists. Jonah stepped between them and slapped one hand against the man’s chest to stop him.

“Touch her, and Dev will have your hide. She’s important.”

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