Page 59 of Forced By the Alpha

She planted a kiss on his forehead and made her way up the stairs. “No, I’d rather you trust me.”

He followed her, dreading the moment to come, when he’d have to face the pack and tell them there would be no battle, no fight for their land, just a negotiation. While hoping for the best, he had to prepare himself for the possibility that it would be the final straw for the White Winters. They might see it as weakness.

It was better to get it over with before he could dwell on it and lose his nerve, but there on the steps his father’s words came back to haunt him, in a memory so strong it subsumed the world around him, drew him backward in time.

They’d been fighting, the smell of wine on his father’s breath, Emma and their mother out of the house.

“You’re not a leader, Devon, you don’t have it in you. It takes spine, and you wouldn’t know what that is. Spine, Devon. A backbone,” his father had sneered, pressing his finger hard into Devon’s sternum. “There’s not a chance in hell I’m leaving my business to you. It’d fall apart in a month. You’d run it into the ground.”

Devon had bit his lip until it’d bled, filling his mouth with the hot taste of iron. But it hadn’t been enough to distract him, to keep him from shifting. He was a new wolf then, out of control, barely human.

For the first time in his life, he’d seen fear in his father’s eyes. He’d relished it. For once, he’d felt in charge, powerful, leaving the cowering boy behind.

“What the—“ his father had broken off into a strangled scream, wine glass shattering on the floor. He’d tried to run, but Devon, enraged, unthinking, had lunged.

His fangs sank into his father’s thigh, knocking him to the ground. The taste of blood had driven Devon deeper into his haze. He shook the leg, back and forth until bone snapped. It was his father’s cry that broke him out of the trance. Blood dripped from his muzzle as he backed away, leaving ruby droplets on the carpet, a pool of them spreading from his father’s leg.

Devon watched as his father wailed, clutching his leg to stem the bleeding. Then he turned, and ran. He couldn’t face what he’d done, couldn’t shift back, become human where the emotions would be even stronger, so he’d gone into the woods and stayed for days.

When he’d returned home, ragged and weary, his parents had left. Only Emma remained in the house. She had ripped up the carpet from the hall and scrubbed the stain from the wood and when she saw him, she hadn’t flinched.

“They’re gone, Dev. Dad wants nothing to do with you, but you scared him enough that he swears he won’t tell anyone. This house is ours and he’s given us more money than we could ever spend, so long as we never try to contact him,” she said, leading him into the kitchen. She poured him a strong cup of coffee and made him sit. “I think Mom will soften in time. She’s scared, just doing what Dad wants her to to keep the peace. But I bet she’ll reach out in time.”

He’d drank the coffee, feeling oddly numb, as if the world was passing him by. Emma sat beside him and took his hand. It was the first kindness she’d shown him in years. Why wasn’t she frightened of him? She’d been the one to call the ambulance, the one to clean the blood, yet she looked Devon dead in the eye that night.

“I want you to turn me,” she’d said.

And the White Winter pack was born.

It was Beth taking his hand now, not Emma. He shook off the memory, clinging to him like cobwebs.

“Are you alright, love?” She peered at him with concern, both of her hands wrapped tight around his. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I might as well have,” he said, gruffly, shaking his head to clear it.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He did. He wanted more than anything to spill his past out for Beth, to tell her every dark secret and leave nothing to haunt them in the depths of his soul. But it wasn’t the time.

“Later. We should tell the pack now.” He forced the waver from his voice and smiled at Beth. It was hard not to smile, looking at her face. She was golden to him, pulling him from the miasma he’d been drowning in before she’d arrived, drowning without even knowing it.

“Together,” she said, taking the lead.

“Together,” he agreed.

They met the pack in the kitchen, where they’d polished off Jonah’s platter of sandwiches.

“Gather up everyone, I’ve got news,” Devon announced, pulling the letter from his pocket.

Emma’s head snapped around. She growled at the pack, “Shut up, guys, I want to hear this.”

Beth was by his side. He could do this.

“We’re meeting with the Rosewoods to discuss a deal. A way to split the land that we can both agree on.”

“Seriously?” Emma laughed. “A negotiation? Why should we share the land when we could just take it?”

The others chimed in, shouting their agreement with Emma.

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