Page 5 of Alpha's Claim

Colt’s wolf surged to the surface, an instinctive growl rumbling low in his chest as a wave of nausea, dizziness and recognition washed over him. This woman—whoever she was—was no ordinary stranger. As he stared at her, something ancient stirred deep inside him.

Before anyone could move or speak, the woman took a shaky step forward, her knees buckling beneath her. Colt leaped over the table, crossing the room in the space of a heartbeat, catching her before she hit the ground. Her curvy frame collapsed against him, her head resting against his chest.

The scent of rain, blood, and something inexplicably familiar filled his senses. His wolf rumbled low with recognition, a fierce protectiveness swelling within him. This wasn’t just any woman. She was something so much more.

And whatever storm had brought her here… it was only the beginning.

Chapter

Three

BRIAR

Briar Lockwood floated in a swirling haze, lost between dream and memory, her mind drifting through shadows and fragments that refused to settle into anything concrete. Shapes shifted and blurred, slipping away whenever she tried to grasp them. Her heart pounded, even in unconsciousness, as if trying to escape.

In the dream, she stood in a vast, endless forest, the ground soft with moss and mist curling at her feet. The air was thick with magic—old, wild magic—and with it came a profound sense of unease. She knew, without knowing how, that she was being hunted.

Her bare feet moved silently across the forest floor as she tried to escape the presence that stalked her. She could hear something behind her—the snap of a twig, the soft rustle of leaves disturbed by heavy footsteps. But no matter how fast she ran, it was always just behind her, a shadow slipping between the trees.

She turned a corner in the misty woods, and suddenly, the trees gave way to a clearing bathed in moonlight. A large, black wolf stood in the center, its fur shimmering with silvery streaks where the light touched it. Its amber eyes glowed, locked to heras if it knew her in a way no one else ever had. Strangely, Briar didn’t feel afraid of the wolf.

Instead, she was drawn to it.

The wolf stood still, its gaze steady but not threatening, as if waiting for her to make a choice. Briar took a hesitant step forward, her breath catching in her throat. The air between them shimmered, and the wolf began to shift—its form twisting and reshaping, fur giving way to skin, claws softening into fingers.

Where the wolf had stood, a man appeared, shrouded in fog and moonlight. He was tall, powerful, and familiar, though she couldn't place how or why. His dark eyes glinted with something unspoken, and he reached for her, his hand outstretched, inviting her closer. The pull toward him was impossible to resist.

Who are you? Briar wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t form on her tongue. The man’s expression was a mixture of longing and determination, as if he’d been waiting for her. The fog thickened around them, making it hard to see his face clearly, but the force of his presence burned into her mind. This man mattered—to who or to what she didn’t know, but he mattered.

A sharp crack echoed through the dream, like the sound of a breaking branch—or a warning. Briar’s heart raced, and suddenly the tranquility shattered. The moonlight dimmed, and the clearing around her blurred into chaos.

She was running again. Something chased her through the darkness, its hot breath skimming her neck. The trees closed in, their branches tangling in her hair, pulling at her clothes. She stumbled, her lungs burning as she tried to escape the unseen threat behind her.

Run. Run faster.

The dream twisted again, pulling her deeper into fragmented memories—flashes of cold hands dragging her through the mud,angry voices shouting, and the sensation of magic crackling painfully against her skin.

She saw herself, running through a storm, her red hair plastered to her face, rain stinging her skin. Shadows stretched across the landscape, twisting and shifting like predators on the hunt. She knew she had to escape, but she couldn’t remember why—or who was chasing her.

Another image flickered through her mind—a face, blurred and unfamiliar. Someone she had once trusted. Someone who had betrayed her. They had found her, and they would find her again.

The storm raged around her in the dream, lightning flashing in jagged streaks across a blackened sky, illuminating strange symbols etched into the earth. Briar knew those symbols, though their meaning was just out of reach. They meant danger, and they marked her as a target.

She was alone, outmatched and outnumbered—but not for long.

The dream shifted again, pulling her back toward the wolf, toward the man waiting in the mist. He called to her, though no words left his lips. She could feel the pull of his voice inside her chest, like a tether drawing her to safety. He was strength, warmth, and sanctuary, though she didn’t understand how.

The danger remained, clawing at the edges of her awareness, but when she thought of him, she felt hope. He was the answer to a question she didn’t yet know how to ask.

The dream began to fray at the edges, fading into nothingness. Briar felt herself slipping further away, the man and the wolf becoming distant shapes in the fog. She reached for them, desperate not to lose the only thing that felt real, but they slipped through her fingers like mist.

“Find me,” she whispered into the darkness, unsure if she was speaking to the wolf or the man.

And then, with a sharp jolt, the dream collapsed into nothingness, and Briar’s unconscious mind drifted into silence once more. But one thing was clear, she was in danger.

Briar drifted between the frayed edges of sleep and wakefulness, her mind sluggish and fogged with exhaustion. The dreams lingered, shadows slipping away just beyond reach, leaving only the taste of fear behind. Slowly, she became aware of her body—the ache in her limbs, the tightness in her head, and the dull throb of bruises beneath her skin.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and the world sharpened into focus. Sunlight poured in through pale sheers, casting a soft glow over a casual but elegant room. The light danced across the smooth wooden floor, illuminating a simple nightstand and a glass of water beside her bed. The air smelled faintly of fresh linen and pine, with a subtle trace of soap.

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