Page 12 of Alpha's Promise

"Look," Landon began, his voice low, threading through the clatter of dishes and the hum of the refrigerator. "I'm offering you a job at the ranch—a simple exchange of work for room and board." His offer hung in the air like the aromatic blend of spices that surrounded them.

Dakota paused mid-stir, her spoon hovering over a steaming pot. She met his eyes, a flash of uncertainty crossing her features. "But the diner... they're counting on me," she said, her voice betraying a loyalty that anchored her to this place despite her drifter's heart.

"I meant what I said. Keep the job at the diner if you like." His gaze never wavered from hers, the intensity of his stare willing her to believe in the sincerity of his words. "But you deserve more than some makeshift bed in the library after hours. I'll make sure you get here for every shift."

The air between them crackled with unvoiced promises, the electric charge of potential thrumming through Landon's veins. He could feel the magnetic pull of their connection, an invisible thread weaving around them, drawing them closer.

Dakota bit her lip, considering his words, her eyes deepening to the color of twilight skies. The shadows played across her face, casting her in an ethereal light that only heightened her allure. "Okay," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of a decision that would alter the course of her life. "I'll take the job."

A victorious thrill surged through Landon, quickly tempered by the knowledge that this was just the beginning. He extended his hand, and when her fingers slid into his, the contact seared him, a jolt of energy that confirmed what his instincts had known all along—Dakota was meant to be part of his world, in ways he had yet to understand.

"Welcome to Savage Ranch," he murmured, promise lacing his words as they shook on the silent pact. The deal was struck, binding their fates together in the dance of destiny that awaited them both.

CHAPTER 7

DAKOTA

The truck's engine rumbled like distant thunder rolling over the landscape as Dakota gazed out the window, the last rays of the setting sun painting the Texas horizon in strokes of fiery orange and crimson.

"Up ahead is the main stretch leading to Copper Canyon Ranch," Landon said, his voice low and steady over the growl of the engine. "That's where we all live and work. You'll be staying in the main house, so you won't have to mingle with the ranch hands unless you want to."

“Who all lives in the house?”

“My two brothers, Colt and Bryce, Colt’s wife, Briar—you met Colt and Briar the other day—Etta, our housekeeper, and the rest of the household staff. We have small cottages for our married couples and male and female dormitories.”

Dakota turned her head, her sapphire eyes reflecting the twilight as she watched him navigate the winding road with ease. His hands, strong and sure on the wheel, sent a flutter of anticipation through her. She was acutely aware of the space between them, filled with the earthy scent of his leather jacket mixed with a hint of sagebrush from the vast rolling hills that surrounded them.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, yet loud enough to slice through the thickening tension. "This is... more than I expected."

"Colt, my older brother, he runs the business side of things. Bryce is the youngest—he's got a wild streak as wide as the canyon and he runs the horse operation," Landon continued, oblivious or indifferent to the effect his proximity had on her. "And I run the cattle side of the business. Etta has been our housekeeper for as long as I can remember. They're good people. You'll fit right in."

The words washed over Dakota, a cascade of names and relationships that felt overwhelming in their simplicity and promise of normalcy. As the sky deepened into indigo, she could feel the weight of her past, heavy on her shoulders, even as the land around spoke of freedom and new beginnings.

"Can I... could we possibly do introductions tomorrow?" Dakota asked, grappling with the desire for rest and the need to maintain some distance from this magnetic cowboy who seemed to see right through her defenses. "I'm just…"

"Exhausted?" Landon finished for her, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Of course. No one's gonna bother you tonight. You can meet everybody when you're ready. Be warned—breakfast and dinner are communal and held up at the house."

Gratitude washed over Dakota like the first rain after a long drought. She gave him a nod, her gaze lingering on the stubble that darkened his jawline and wondering what it would feel like beneath her fingertips or better yet, to have it rub up against her inner thigh. She quickly looked away, chastising herself for the errant thought.

"Thank you, Landon. Really," she said, feeling the pull of an attraction she wasn't ready to explore. But it lingered there between them, a heat mirroring the dying day's warmth—apromise of something untamed and raw simmering just beneath the surface of their newfound acquaintance.

The truck's engine hummed a reassuring lullaby as Dakota gazed out the window, her eyes tracing the contours of the Copper Canyon Ranch. The land stretched endlessly, shadows clinging to the curves of the terrain like dark silk. The setting sun flamed the sky into embers, casting a warm glow over everything. Landon said nothing more, allowing the silence to swell between them—a comfortable quiet that wrapped around Dakota like a protective shawl.

They turned down the long driveway that led to the heart of the ranch—a grand main house, its rustic charm highlighted by a wide wraparound porch and tall oak trees providing shade. Nearby, a large, weathered barn anchored the property, flanked by smaller outbuildings that hinted at the hustle and bustle of the ranch.

Landon didn’t pull up to the front of the house but drove around to the back where several other vehicles were parked.

"This is it," Landon announced, indicating the house. “Most everybody comes and goes through the back door, which I’m sure drives Etta nuts. He cut the engine and cast a glance her way, his eyes reflecting the last of the day's light. They held a depth she could swim in and never find the shore.

Dakota followed him inside, her senses alert. The smell of clean house, spices, and leather greeted her, the scent wrapping around her like an embrace. He led her through a large kitchen that had seen many meals prepared with care, down a hall and up a massive staircase. Every corner held a hint of the people who lived here—practical, yet personal.

Dakota trailed behind Landon, the warmth of the place embracing her. She couldn't help but notice the intricate wolf motifs artfully scattered throughout the house—carved into the mantle, woven into a tapestry that hung on the wall, even etchedonto the backs of the dining chairs. Each sighting sent a shiver down her spine, not of fear, but of exhilaration. These symbols seemed to hold a significance that whispered to her soul, echoing the tales her grandfather once recounted in hushed reverence—the legends of ‘the wolves’ of Copper Canyon.

She paused before a painting that dominated one wall, its brushstrokes capturing the wild beauty of a wolf's gaze, almost lifelike in its intensity. "My family has always felt a kinship with the wolves here," Landon's voice was low and smooth, startling her. "They're part of the land, part of us."

"Maybe you can tell me more about them," Dakota suggested, her curiosity piqued as she turned to catch Landon watching her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Maybe." The word hung between them, laden with implicit promises.

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