Page 22 of Alpha's Promise

His shifter instincts prickled beneath his skin, a silent whisper that spoke of changes unseen. Something was amiss—something more than mere exhaustion. He could almost feel the latent wolf inside her stirring, responding to his presence with an instinctive recognition. It occurred to Landon that perhaps Dakota might have some kind of dormant blood that was awakening, aligning with the part of her destined to shift and run with the pack. There were tales of such things, but he'd always dismissed them.

The air around them hummed with a tension that had nothing to do with the fading daylight or the coyotes beginningtheir nightly chorus. It was the tension between two beings drawn together by an ancient, unseen force—a bond that was both a gift and a curse.

He remembered the night before, how the moonlight had played across her skin, how each breath she took seemed to pull him closer, an invisible thread weaving around his heart. The urge to mark her, to claim her as his mate, had been almost overwhelming. Yet somewhere in the depths of his restraint, Landon had sensed something more within Dakota—a dormant power waiting to be awakened.

"Maybe you should rest when we get back," he suggested, his gaze lingering on her profile, the curve of her cheekbone illuminated by the last rays of sunlight filtering through the cab.

Dakota nodded silently, her eyes fixed on the horizon where the sky melted into shades of purple and orange. The world outside was a portrait of tranquility, but inside the truck cab, a storm was brewing, charged with the electricity of unspoken truths and hidden identities.

As they approached the ranch, the silhouette of the main house rose against the twilight sky—sturdy and unyielding, much like the man who drove towards it. The scent of wild sage filled the air, mingling with the more subtle undertones of pine and leather from Landon's well-worn jacket.

"Thanks for picking me up," Dakota murmured as Landon brought the truck to a stop near the house.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice low and steady, yet beneath the surface, his thoughts raced with the urgency of the secret he kept nestled deep within his chest.

They climbed out of the truck, and Dakota swayed slightly, her exhaustion evident. With a swift movement, Landon reached out to steady her, his hand on her arm sending a jolt of electricity through them both. Their eyes locked and time stood still, the air thick with desire and a connection that ran soul deep.

"Easy there," he said, his words barely above a whisper, but laden with a promise of protection—and something far more primal.

"Sorry, just a little lightheaded." She offered a weak smile, trying to mask the confusion that flickered across her face.

"Let's get you inside," Landon insisted, his touch lingering longer than necessary.

Together, they walked toward the house. In the silence between them, the call of the wild beckoned, a siren song that would soon change everything.

Landon's hands were gentle as he guided Dakota up the stairs of the house, his senses acutely aware of her every breath and the heat radiating from her skin. The air was cooler here, a stark contrast to the feverish warmth that seemed to cling to her. He could hear the distant call of night creatures, a haunting chorus to the turmoil churning within him.

The door creaked softly as they entered her bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight that slipped through the curtains. He undressed her with the utmost care, helping her into the bed and tucking the sheets around her still form. Her breathing eased into a steady rhythm, yet there was an unsettling quiet about her that pricked at his instincts.

As he turned to leave, the vast silence of the room weighed heavily against his resolve. His secret loomed between them like a specter, its presence growing more oppressive with each heartbeat. The knowledge of what he was—and what she might be—clawed at him, demanding to be acknowledged.

"Stay," Dakota's voice was husky, a whisper woven with vulnerability that stopped him in his tracks.

Her hand reached out, fingers brushing against his own with an intimacy that sent a shiver down his spine. The delicate touch echoed louder than any spoken plea; it was a tether binding him to her.

"All right," Landon murmured, the word barely escaping his lips as he stripped down to his briefs and settled beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight.

She shifted slightly, her breath warm against his neck, stirring the wildness within him. His wolf stirred, a primal entity recognizing the mate that lay so tantalizingly close. Yet, it was not just the beast inside him that yearned for closeness—it was the man, the protector, the lover who craved to claim her as his own.

"Tomorrow," he vowed silently, his voice a rough whisper meant only for the shadows and her sleeping form. "I'll tell you everything."

With that solemn promise hanging in the air, sleep eventually claimed him, wrapping them both in a cocoon of shared warmth. Dreams flickered behind closed eyelids—dreams of moonlit fur and the taste of destiny on his tongue. Tomorrow, their worlds would collide in truth, but for now, they slumbered, two halves of a whole yet to be united.

Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow on Dakota's silhouette as Landon stirred from his restless slumber. The night had been a dance of shadows and murmured vows, but the morning brought with it an air of inevitability that hung over him like a shroud. With eyes still heavy with secrets, he watched her move gracefully on the balcony, her figure bathed in the early dawn light.

The scent of fresh coffee wafted into the room, mingled with the aroma of toasted bread and something sweet—perhaps jam or honey. His heightened senses registered every nuance, every detail, sharpening his awareness of her presence. He rose fromthe bed, muscles flexing beneath his skin, every fiber of his being acutely conscious of the gravity of what lay ahead.

Pulling on jeans and buckling his belt, he stepped onto the balcony. Dakota turned toward him, her eyes reflecting the sapphire sky above them, a silent greeting in their depths. The simple breakfast she'd prepared was spread out on the table, an offering of normalcy in a world that was anything but ordinary. They ate in companionable silence, a smoldering tension simmering just beneath the surface, thick as the steam rising from their mugs.

It was then that Landon noticed the book, its aged leather cover cracked with time, resting between them. It was a relic from a bygone era, holding within its pages truths that could alter everything. He reached out, fingers brushing against the worn binding, feeling the pulse of ancient magic thrumming through the tome.

"The drawings, calligraphy, and binding are beautiful. It’s a pity I can’t read the language." Dakota said, her tone laced with curiosity and an edge of something deeper.

"It is," Landon replied, his voice husky with emotion. "I do understand the language. Would you like to hear the story it tells?"

Dakota nodded, her gaze locked onto his, the question in her eyes clear:What secrets do you hold?

He cleared his throat, the words of the book rising to his lips, flowing from him as though they were a part of his very soul. He recited the tale with reverence, each syllable imbued with the weight of centuries. The story unfolded, a narrative of beings intertwined with the fabric of nature itself, and as he spoke, he couldn't help but wonder if she heard the echo of her own essence within the fable.

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