Page 42 of Forced By the Alpha

Emma’s words stung like a slap. She called his loyalty to the pack in question, believing his fondness for Beth was superseding it. It wasn’t, of course, but her thoughts were undoubtedly a reflection of the pack as a whole.

He shouldn’t have gone away for the weekend. It had been a stupid, impulsive decision, and it had left the pack vulnerable, and unsure without their leader. Emma would have stepped in to lead them.

In his head, he carried a tally board of his achievements and stacked them up beside Emma’s. As the pack's loyalties shifted, he moved the pieces around on the board. At the moment, they were stacked heavily in Emma’s favor, and if he didn’t do something, he wouldn’t have a pack to worry about.

Losing the pack would be dropping the board entirely. The thought left him empty. Without them, he’d have accomplished nothing in his life, not really. His father’s disappointment loomed like a specter in the room, haunting his steps as he showered and changed and stalled, everything he could make up an excuse to do until, suddenly, there was nothing left to do but find Beth.

A knock at his door delayed him. Jonah. He was disheveled, bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept. They looked incongruous in his boyish face, but Devon recognized them. Leading the pack would do that for you, even if it was a temporary role.

“What is it, Jo? I’ve got to find Beth.” He was impatient now, even though he’d be stalling.

Jonah scratched the back of his head, grimacing. “That’s what I came here to talk to you about, actually. Whatever you did man, you’d better fix it up and fast. She’s pissed. Like beating the snot out of a punching bag pissed. I’ve never seen her violent before and I didn’t like it, like watching a bunny grow fangs.”

Devon found it hard to imagine. Beth had fire, passion, but violence? She’d done everything she could to avoid it, even when provoked by Emma, for God’s sake, and everyone wanted to smack Emma at one point or another.

He sighed, bone-weary and wishing he could rewind the last three hours. Hopefully, he hadn’t damaged anything beyond repair.

“Yeah, I screwed up. Big time.” If he thought it would have helped, he’d get her flowers, a box of chocolates, a teddy bear, any of the things high school dramas had taught him would ease the apology. But he was too old to believe they would help, and Beth was too smart to be swayed.

“What happened?” Jonah pressed, moving to the side so Devon could join him in the hall. He held two fingers crooked in front of his mouth and hissed, vampire-like. “A rabid bunny, Dev. Unnatural.”

“Emma got in my ear the second we got back, and suddenly, everything twisted. We were supposed to be moving forward as partners, but the second I had a chance to prove that I meant those words, I blocked her out. Shit. She’s never going to forgive me.” His hand clenched into a fist. If onlyhe’dhad a punching bag right then. But like teddy bears and roses, punching was a temporary band-aid.

Jonah let out a low whistle. “That doesn’t sound good. Wasn’t that trip supposed to be about the two of you bonding? Isn’t that why she dragged you out there?”

“Well, I did the dragging, really, but do you see the problem now?” Devon groaned. “But even now, I can’t help but worry that what Emma said was right.”

He said it low, looking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone, but uttering the words out loud still filled him with guilt. If Beth overheadthat,it’d be the final nail in the coffin. Unless he’d already driven that in.

“First of all, think about what you just said.” Jonah stopped him in the hall and fixed him dead in the eye.

“She’s still a Rosewood, despite everything. How could she not be? They were her family.” Devon felt sick. He pleaded with Jonah like a boy, laying bare his deepest fears bare. Best friend or not, he knew Jonah would see the weakness for what it was, and Devon couldn’t blame him.

He pushed Jonah away, one hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Forget about it, okay? I’ve got this. Tell everyone to meet up in two hours in the kitchen.”

Jonah’s mouth opened like he was going to protest, but the look in Devon’s eye made him snap his mouth shut. Shaking his head, he walked away.

Great job, Devon, push away the two people who seem to give a damn about you, all in the same day. Then you can be an isolated and bitter old man just like your father.The taunting voice inside his head hurled insults the entire walk to Beth’s room. The closer he got to her door, the longer the hallway seemed to stretch, the slower his steps seemed to become. Until he was there, standing in front of her door, empty-handed. Maybe he should have gotten the teddy bear after all.

He knocked and waited, expecting her to shout a “come in” or a “who’s there,” but the door opened, and she was there in front of her, wet-haired and smelling of shampoo. She wore a sundress, butter yellow with white, embroidered daises and bare feet. Her face was bare. She looked young, beautiful, and pissed off.

“What do you want, Devon?” She stuck her head out of the door and looked up and down the hall. “Oh, no armed guard accompanying you? No one you want to post up outside the door of this dangerous Rosewood?”

Jonah’s assessment of a fanged bunny had been too mild—she was a she-wolf, backed against the cliff. Something was broken in her eyes, and Devon hadn’t seen her so distraught since she’d first arrived.

“Was it just a game to you?” She went on, bracing her hands on either side of the doorway, blocking him from coming in. If he’d dared. “Get me to let my guard down, get me to sleep with you, then treat me like dirt again?”

Her words struck his chest like arrows. Even his father’s words hadn’t lanced so deeply.“I thought you were just misguided before,” she said, quiet but venomous, “now I see you’re a monster far past the point of saving.”

“Beth,” he interrupted as she took a breath before she could launch another verbal assault. “Let me in, let me explain things to you.”

Her eyes widened, and she drew back with a cold, short laugh. “What explanation could you possibly give that you think would make this okay?”

They both shared that skepticism. He wasn’t sure one existed, either, but he at least had to try.

“Well, it starts with ‘I’m a complete idiot,’” he said, daring a small smile.

She didn’t soften, but she crossed her arms over her chest and nodded toward her bed, letting him into her room. At that point, it felt like a life preserver, and he grabbed onto it with both hands.

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