Page 22 of Forced By the Alpha

“He wouldn’t let me go after your Rosewood,” she sniffed, capping the lipstick and dropping it on the vanity before turning around to face him, arms crossed over her chest.

It hadn’t been an easy childhood for either of them, and he could see the scars of it on her as clearly as if they’d been written on her skin, however hard she tried to hide them. The house, with its many rooms and hidden nooks, had been a sanctuary, an escape from their father’s drunken anger. Looking at Emma then, he could barely remember the girl who had pulled him into the closet one terrible evening, when their father had smashed his fist through the glass window and turned his attention toward Devon.

That night, she’d wrapped him in one of their mother’s coats and told him a story until he’d stopped sobbing, his hand covering the purpling bruise around his eye. Outside the closet, their father raged, looking for them. It had felt like ages before their mother had come home and intervened, drawing his attention from the children, and ages after that when, finally, silence descended over the house.

She was in there, though, that girl, even now.

“This is your last chance, Em. Leave Beth alone, or I’ll exile you.” He passed his hand over his face as he said it, feeling a hundred times his age.

It killed him to say it, to think of turning his back on the last of his family. Of breaking his promise to his mother.

Emma’s face darkened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. Or better yet, don’t. Fall in line. Obey my commands. Stop spreading dissent through the ranks every time my back is turned, and for god’s sake, stop gunning for alpha. We could be better than this. We could work together.”

“Save me the speech,” she spat. “And get out of my room.”

Devon sized her up, trying to gauge whether his words had landed. She’d never show it if they had. He wanted to pry, wanted to ask why she felt the need to pull at every threat he tried to weave around the pack, why she undermined his authority, but he knew it was useless. She wouldn’t tell him anything. At some point along the way, they’d lost each other.

“I meant every word. Shape up or get out,” Devon said, slamming the door shut behind him so hard the walls shook.

He pressed his palms against the sides of his head and squeezed, willing the ache starting to form behind his eyes away. Stubbornly, it grew larger.

Despite Caleb’s wishes, he hadn’t told Em about him heading out to meet Amy. He didn’t want Amy’s blood on his hands, but judging from the lipstick and the mini skirt hanging from the closet door, Emma was headed out into town, too. The last thing he needed was a brawl at a human bar on top of everything else.

Back in his office, Devon gazed at the map on the wall. The White Winter territory was marked in blue, and the Rosewood territory in red. He was exhausted, drained by anger, but the pack needed him right now. Needed a distraction. Cohesion.

“Everybody, gather up!” He called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. They’d hear him, wherever they were in the big house.

Doors opened. Footsteps pounded on the stairs and down the hall. His pack spilled into his office in various states of dishevelment. Emma eyed Caleb from across the room, barely covered by the strip of fabric she called a skirt. Caleb leaned against the far wall, pointedly ignoring her.

“We're going out,” he said, once everyone had gathered.

“I had plans!” Caleb protested, side-eyeing Emma.

Devon’s warning was enough to keep her mouth shut for the time being, at least, but she scowled down at the floor as if she could burn a hole in it.

“Cancel them. You’ve got five minutes, then I want everyone outside with me.”

He waited outside, dusk falling around him. Crickets chirped in the grass, and the setting sun left a chill on his skin, which he relished. The night was fresh and waiting for him, calling to him. As a wolf, he could slough off the worries of the day, the pressures of the pack. He could just be.

Beth hadn’t joined them, not in the office or the group gathering on the lawn around him. She still didn’t feel like one of them, and how could she, with Emma, doing her best to make sure she stayed on the outside? The light in her room was on. He imagined her up there, looking down at them, the wild pack she loathed.

Jonah would keep her company if she wanted it. Devon felt a spike of guilt wedge itself in like a splinter under the nail at keeping Jonah on guard duty, but he was the only one he could trust. He just hoped it wasn’t driving him away. He couldn’t afford to lose the one person he trusted.

When all the wolves were assembled, he shoved down thoughts of Beth and guilt and shifted, leading them all into the woods. It was not just a distraction, an excuse to get the pack together. He led them to the territory line, the one marked in blue on the map, head low to the ground as he searched for foreign scent.

In the end, it wasn’t just the scent he caught crossing the territory line. Caleb barked an alarm beside him. The Rosewood pack burst through the trees, colliding with the White Winters. The packs tangled in a snarl of teeth, claw, fur, and blood. Devon caught a mottled brown one by the scruff and threw it to the side.

The Rosewoods were out in force. He had no doubt they were searching for Beth, tracking their missing pack member in the White Winter territory. Brave of them to cross the line. Stupid too.

Even outnumbered, the White Winters had the edge. They were ruthless in their fighting, lunging for eyes and the tender underside of a neck. Caleb tore an ear from a delicate, near-white wolf in a spray of blood. Emma was a whirlwind, taking on three at once.

Devon caught the alpha alone. He outmatched him in size, but the Rosewood didn’t back down, throwing himself at Devon with surprising speed. Twisting to the side, he threw the Rosewood off of him and let the momentum carry the other wolf across the ground before leaping on top of him. He lunged at the alpha’s throat.

Another Rosewood barreled into Devon, knocking him off the alpha before his teeth could sink into his neck. Despite that wolf’s heroic efforts, Devon could see the tide of the battle was turned in White Winter’s favor. Rosewoods were limping, bleeding, edging away from his pack.

But the Rosewood alpha was torn. No doubt he could smell Beth on them, and any doubt about where she had ended up was gone. They knew she was alive and she was with the White Winter pack. It was, apparently, enough for them. The alpha howled and backed away, his eyes locked on Devon.

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