Page 58 of Forced By the Alpha

Devon burst into the house, letter clutched in his hand. He took the stairs two at a time, calling for Beth.

“She’s in the garden, I think.” Jonah poked his head out of his room, startled. “What’s going on? Oh! They’ve written back. Have you read it yet?”

He shook his head side to side. “I wanted to wait for Beth.”

He ran back down the stairs, Jonah trailing close behind. It was five days into the promised week Beth had allotted them, and every day, he’d gone to the waiting place, heart sinking when he found it empty. The sight of the white paper tucked into a hollow tree had stopped him in his tracks, disbelieving. Half expecting an attack, he’d approached with caution but the scent of the Rosewood was faint, as if they’d come early that morning.

“Beth!” He cried at the garden’s edge. “Where are you?”

She called a response, sounding far away. “At the turtle pond!”

Of course. She was often there now, bringing cushions to pad the bench into a more comfortable position for her current state.

“Look, there’s a baby,” she said, pointing to a turtle barely larger than a quarter, resting atop a rock. “What is it? Your face is—has something happened? Is it Adria?”

Devon held the letter aloft. “They’ve written us back.”

Beth gasped and reached for the letter. He gave it to her, standing over her shoulder while she ripped it open.

“What does it say?” Jonah asked, bouncing on his toes.

“They’ll meet with us,” Beth responded, breathless. “They said they’ll meet with us!”

Jonah pumped his fist and let out a whoop that sent the birds in the surrounding trees into flight. The turtles slipped off the rock and into the water, vanishing beneath the dark surface.

“When? How soon?” Jonah’s excitement was catching, filling Devon with a matching energy even though there was still so much that could go wrong.

“Next week,” Devon said, taking the letter from Beth when she handed it over. “We should tell the rest of the pack our plan, now that it’s in motion.”

Jonah’s eyebrows disappeared into his shaggy hair. "You don't think they’ll crash the meet-up, do you? I could see Emma taking it as an opportunity to, you know, pick a Rosewoods off.”

Beth spoke up. “We have to start trusting each other, Jo. It’s the only way forward.”

Devon silently agreed with Jonah, there was a great risk in letting the pack know their plans. After all, they’d have the leadership of the Rosewood pack right there, vulnerable. Even his own instinct told him it was too sweet an opportunity to resist. He had to push past that.

“Beth's right,” Devon said, folding the letter and sticking it in his pocket. “We'll tell them the truth. But I think we should keep the details of exactly when and where to ourselves. Trust can only go so far until it’s earned.”

“I’ll make some lunch. They’ll take the news better on a full stomach,” Jonah said, trotting away.

He, at least, would appreciate the new turn the pack was taking. Jonah had never had the stomach for bloodshed.

Beth and Devon made their way inside, strolling through the garden. Now that they had the Rosewood response, there was urgency, no nagging anxiety. All they could do now was wait for the day to come.

She looped her arm through his. “I’m coming to the meeting.”

Devon slowed to her pace. She moved more carefully these days, her growing stomach demanding a leisurely movement. Even encumbered by it, Beth was graceful.

“I figured you’d want to.” Devon didn’t love the idea, but he knew better than to voice that sentiment. It made sense for Beth to be there. She had to be there, for the Rosewoods to trust the deal, but he hated the potential risk. “And I know you need to be there. But if I get even the faintest hint that the Rosewoods are up to something, I’ll be pulling you out of there, and I won’t give a damn who gets hurt in the process.”

She squeezed his arm. “I know, dear.”

Devon huffed. “I’m only looking out for you. You and our baby.”

They reached the stairs and she climbed the first step, turning around so they were eye-to-eye. “Once you’ve been in a cage, you become wary of restrictions couched as concern.”

The reminder of how he’d gotten her, his beautiful mate, was a bitter string inside of him. She plucked it then, and sent a wave of guilt through his core.

“You’d rather I let them take you back?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness from his tone, even if it was directed more at himself than at her. She had every right to hold him responsible for his earlier actions.

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