Page 31 of Alpha's Promise

As they stepped out of the truck, the sensual tension and anticipation between them was almost palpable. Dakota drew a deep breath as if bracing herself against an unseen storm. He followed her lead, walking up the steps to the front door with a sense of reverence. This wasn't just a return; it was a reclaiming.

At the threshold, Dakota hesitated. Her hand hovered in the air, poised to knock, but stalled by an invisible weight. Landon leaned in closer, his presence a silent pillar of support. "You don't need to knock, Dakota. Remember, this is your house."

"Right," she said, her voice steady but laced with a vulnerability that tugged at something primal within him. "My house."

Her fingers found the key she'd kept hidden away for so long, the metal glinting in the dying light. She inserted it into the lock with a decisive click. The sound echoed through him, stirring embers of anticipation and igniting a flame of protectiveness. As she turned the knob and pushed the door open, Landon knew they were crossing more than just a physical threshold—they were stepping into a world where the past and present would collide with an intensity that could either forge their bond stronger or shatter it completely.

The door swung inward, revealing the opulent foyer bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun streaming through the stained-glass windows. Dust motes danced in the air, swirlingaround them as if awakened from a long slumber by their intrusion. The scent of aged wood and long-forgotten perfume lingered, a testament to the life that once filled these halls.

Taking Dakota's hand, Landon felt her pulse racing against his skin. There was no turning back now. They had entered her legacy, a place where love and danger were intertwined, where every shadow might hold a secret, and where each step forward was a dance with destiny.

The cool air of the grand foyer wrapped around Landon like an unwelcome embrace as he stepped into the cavernous space of Dakota's ancestral home. A shiver raced up his spine, but it wasn't from the chill. It was the electric charge that seemed to bounce between them, a current intensified by everything surrounding them.

As Dakota closed the door behind them, the soft click reverberated through the silence, sealing them in with the echoes of the past. He watched her, the way the dim light played across the contours of her face, casting shadows that hinted at the turmoil beneath her poised exterior.

In the opulent shadows of the Westwood estate, with the ghosts of the past watching, Landon understood that they would unravel the secrets, the tangle of lies and the betrayal that Dakota had run from. But nothing—not a conniving ex, nor any secrets her grandfather knew about her heritage—would keep them from claiming their destiny.

CHAPTER 15

DAKOTA

The door to her childhood home swung open with an eerie silence that pricked at Dakota’s skin. She stepped over the threshold, half-expecting to be ambushed by the past or accosted by the present—by someone, anyone telling them they were trespassers in a place she had once belonged. But there was nothing. Only the stillness of the old walls and the faint whisper of history hanging in the air like the remnants of a long-forgotten perfume.

"Too quiet," she murmured, her voice barely rising above the sound of their careful footsteps.

"Like the calm before the storm," Landon agreed, his presence a reassuring warmth at her back.

Dakota led the way, navigating through the dimly lit hallway, each step deliberate, as if the wooden floors might give away more than just the creak of aged timber. The house felt like a hollow shell, its heartbeat lost to time and conflict, leaving behind only the echoes of what used to be.

They made their way to the basement, where shadows clung to corners and the musty scent of disuse permeated the cool air. There, shrouded in darkness and dust, was her grandfather'strunk. Its surface was etched with scratches and scars—evidence of secrets it had kept and journeys it had endured.

"Let's get this upstairs," Dakota said, her words slicing through the heavy silence.

Together, they hoisted the trunk, the weight of it less burdensome than the weight of her swirling thoughts. The ascent back to the main floor was punctuated by the soft grunts of effort and the shuffle of their feet.

"Should we put this in the truck?" Landon asked when they set the trunk down with a thud that seemed too loud in the silent house.

"Good idea. We might need to leave in a hurry," Dakota replied, the reality of their situation settling on her.

As Landon opened the front door to clear a path to the vehicle parked outside, a chill wind whisked inside, carrying with it the scent of imminent rain and the distant rumble of thunder—a prelude to the tempest that was surely on its way. Dakota couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than just a retrieval mission; it felt more like a confrontation with her past that she needed to resolve before moving forward.

Their movements were swift but calculated, ensuring the trunk was securely placed in the back of the truck, hidden under a tarp that flapped slightly in the growing wind. The sky had turned steel-gray, clouds roiling above like an omen.

"Whatever comes next," Landon said, his voice low and steady, "you need to remember you are not alone. I’d like to think that your grandfather sent you to us."

Dakota met his gaze, the intensity of his eyes grounding her amidst the storm of uncertainties. She nodded and knew that for the first time since her grandfather had died, she wasn’t alone. She realized that even when she’d been with her ex-fiancé, she had never felt as though he had her back. She wondered ifsomehow, fate hadn’t sent her to Copper Canyon Ranch and to those who lived there.

Back inside the house, with the trunk safely stowed away, they were ready to face whatever lay waiting within these walls.

Dakota's boots moved across the hardwood floor, her steps as stealthy as a wolf's prowl. The shadows of the house clung to her like cobwebs as she made her way to her grandfather's study, which held memories and secrets of a happier time. Landon followed close behind, his presence both a comfort and a reminder of the peril that might be waiting for them.

The study door creaked open, and Dakota hesitated on the threshold. The light spilled through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow that seemed to cast everything in a different light. She could feel the presence of her grandfather as if he was reminding her that she belonged here. She could almost hear the echo of his voice, the rustling of papers, the tap-tap-tapping on the keys of his old typewriter that he preferred over any electronic device. He’d had a computer, but usually used his trusty typewriter.

"Let's start with the desk," she suggested, her tone betraying none of the emotion that stirred within her. "My grandfather kept all his important documents in there."

Landon nodded, his hands already delving into drawers and rifling through files. Dakota joined him, sifting through stacks of papers, searching for something—anything—that might lead them closer to the truth of her heritage. But it was clear her ex had rummaged through the papers, leaving a trail of disruption in his wake.

"Damn him," Dakota muttered under her breath, her fingers brushing over a leather-bound ledger that seemed out of place amidst the disorder. She flipped through it, finding nothing but numbers and dates, the mundane residue of her grandfather’s financial affairs.

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