Page 50 of Forced By the Alpha

He opened both eyes now and folded his hands behind his head. “I think that someday, we’ll look back at these hard times and they’ll feel like a distant memory. I don’t think it’ll be this way forever. We’re going to make it through, the three of us together. A family.”

Beth bit down on the corner of her lip. Emma’s shove in the garden hadn’t done more than bruise her, and if Beth hadn’t been pregnant, she would have brushed the incident off, added it to the list of Emma’s antics. Now, with the baby growing inside of her, she wasn’t able to shake it off as easily. There was more at stake, more than just herself to protect.

“Maybe I should go away for a while,” Beth said, watching his face as her words landed. “I know you’ll do everything you can to keep me safe, I don’t doubt that, but she’s completely unpredictable. She’s your sister, I get that. I don’t want to put you between a rock and a hard place, so maybe, for now, it’d be better if I just found a space of my own.”

Devon sat up. “Go where? Back to the Rosewoods? With a White Winter baby? My baby?”

“Not back to the Rosewoods. Somewhere, I could be alone, away from these pack politics. I’d return once the baby was born.”

But Devon was shaking his head, his wavy hair swaying. “I’d lose my mind if you weren’t nearby, never knowing if you were in danger. Please, Beth, don’t even talk about it. I can’t stand the idea of losing you both. What happened to figuring this out together?”

The heartbroken pleading silenced Beth’s arguments, though she had a million of them at the tip of her tongue.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” she told him, smoothing the wrinkles from his brow with the swipe of her finger. “We’ll make this work. Together.”

As they lay there, Devon asleep, his breathing steady as a metronome, Beth stared up at the ceiling. The fan circled overhead, a vulture waiting for her to close her eyes. She had locked the door to the bedroom. Still, every creak made her jump, her heart leaping to her throat.

Devon wanted her to stay, and hearing her own words repeated back to her, her insistence that they sort through everything together, kept her chained. But as she watched Devon’s chest rise and fall in his sleep she thought again of how little she knew about the man sleeping next to her. After all, he had never mentioned a brother. What had Emma meant, that Devon had lost them their brother?

She wracked her mind for clues, but Devon had never mentioned another sibling to her. And how would Devon’s choice of mate cost them their brother? By the time she fell asleep, her head ached from worrying.

Chapter 18 - Devon

Rain pelted down, slicking his fur to his sides. It beaded off his muzzle as he ran and turned the ground beneath his paws slick, making him work for every step. At his side, Beth kept pace. The two of them moved almost as one, necks stretched, legs loping over the forest floor.

A peal of thunder split the air. Beth’s ears twitched, flattening back against her head as the lightning followed, turning the world a brilliant white. It was close, the storm passing just overhead now, and the rain turned torrential. He regretted his decision to take Beth out, but the morning had dawned an indecisive shade of grey, the sort that might burn off to a lovely blue. Instead, the clouds had rolled in darker, stacking like towers.

Far from the White Winter house, they had opened up into a rainstorm. First, fat droplets had struck the canopy above, and they’d been safe enough beneath its umbrella. Then, the rain parted the leaves, too heavy to be slowed, and drenched them.

Beth was not flagging, and neither would he. He shook his head, clearing the water that rolled into his eyes. Worry for the baby gnawed at his stomach. Should she be out in this, getting cold and wet? Should she be running flat out? He tried to remember if the books had said anything about that. Exercise was okay, but rain?

She was so young, so headstrong. When the rain had started, he’d asked if they should turn back, but she’d only run harder, forcing him to catch up or lose her. Wolf mothers weather far worse than this, she’d reminded him.

They neared the clearing where his brother was buried. He prayed that this day, the Rosewoods would be far, far from there. Maybe the rain was on his side after all, keeping anyone sane inside. Another crack of thunder. He looked up, ready to shove Beth aside if a tree was struck, and caught the flash of light with open eyes. Blinking away spots, he slowed.

Seeing him flag, Beth broke to a trot beside him, head cocked in confusion. Scents were muffled by the heavy rain, but he could find his way by sight to this sacred place. Trees swayed around them, yanked this way and that by the wind, sending broken branches plummeting down. Most were thin, but he shuddered at the thought of a larger one catching Beth, crushing her.

They scrambled over wet rocks up the hill, claws scratching against stone, to the clearing. Here, at least, there were no branches directly overhead to fall on her, but the rain beat down harder without the protective boughs. They slunk toward the stone, Devon leading the way.

Today, he wouldn’t shift to pay his respects. Being soaked as a wolf was one thing; his thick fur could keep him warm, but as a human, he’d be miserable, and he needed to keep an eye out for Rosewoods. He wouldn’t smell them coming in the rain. He circled the stone, and Beth stopped in front of it, tail low.

She approached it, touching it with the smooth black end of her muzzle. He wondered if she’d ever crossed this spot before, in her Rosewood days. Had she run across this clearing, never knowing what it meant to him? How many times had their paths almost crossed?

Beth asked no questions, though he’d expected them. In her gentle way, she seemed to understand it all, to take it all in as the storm roared by them, taking no notice of the weather as she contemplated the grave. It had been a risk taking her out there when she was meant to be a prisoner, and the White Winters might question the excursion, but he felt no regrets about the decision. He owed her the truth in everything: his mate, his luna.

We have a sacred place too,she said, at last, her voice a whisper in his mind.Though it’s a tree, not a grave. I don’t know that you’ll ever convince the Rosewoods to leave it, as they wouldn’t be able to convince you to leave this.

Devon hadn’t considered that. His first instinct was to scoff. How could a tree be as precious as a grave? But the way she spoke of it made it clear that the tree was important, intrinsic to being a Rosewood.

Is it possible for us both to come out of this satisfied? Can the land be split in such a way?

He rubbed his body up against hers, hoping his heat would soak into her. She leaned against him, curling her head pressed against his neck.

We’ll have to look at the maps. Are you ready to head back?

Devon took a last look around the glen. The mossy ground was a brilliant green in the rain, dotted with tiny puddles. If only his brother were here. He would have loved Beth. Why couldn’t Emma see that their brother wouldn’t want this?

Lightning was coming more frequently now, flash after flash with thunder that he felt in his chest. Reluctant as he was to leave Beth’s affectionate embrace, it was time to head home.

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