Page 42 of Alpha's Promise

Her ex, momentarily distracted, turned his massive head toward the new arrival, lips curling back in a sneer. His stance shifted, calculating, assessing whether to confront this fresh threat or finish the prey already weakened before him.

Dakota, seizing the reprieve, forced her battered body to stand. She wouldn't let Landon face this alone—not when he had come for her in her darkest hour. They would defy the twisted destiny her ex sought to impose upon her together.

"You were late coming home," Landon teased, the wry humor lacing his tone belying the gravity of their situation. It was a brief flicker of warmth in the cold dread that had seized her heart.

‘Focus, Landon,’she managed to retort through the link, despite the pain that lanced through her form. There was comfort in their banter, a reminder of shared strength amidst the storm.

Her ex howled, a sound that resonated with centuries of bitterness and loss—a declaration that he would not be denied. But as he launched himself at Landon, Dakota knew the battle was far from over.

Landon didn't flinch, standing firm as the embodiment of Copper Canyon's untamed legacy, ready to protect, to fight—and if necessary, to sacrifice everything for the woman who hadunwittingly captured the wild heart of a lone cowboy with the soul of a wolf.

CHAPTER 20

LANDON

Landon's phone buzzed against the rough wood of the bar top, its vibration a stark contrast to the quiet hum of twilight settling over Copper Canyon. His hand moved with practiced ease, a lone wolf swift and silent in his response. The screen glowed with an incoming call from the café down the street, a beacon of mundane life that now heralded something amiss.

"Talk to me," Landon said, voice laced with a mix of irritation and concern as he registered the panic threading through the café owner's words on the line.

"It's Dakota," came the reply, breathless and edged with fear. "She went out back to take out the trash, and she hasn't come back. I stepped outside to check... your truck is still here, but she's gone, Landon."

The grip on his phone tightened, knuckles whitening. A chill crept up his spine, one not born from the evening breeze that blew secrets across the open plains. Something primal stirred within him, an instinctual warning that snarled of danger lurking in the shadows.

"Did anything happen today?" His question was clipped, each word sharp as flint striking steel.

"Only that her ex showed up earlier," the owner rushed on, voice trembling like aspen leaves in a storm. "He was trying to hassle her, saying things that made my blood run cold. But Dakota—she didn't cower. She flipped a plate of food right over his head, and the whole place cheered when he stormed out, covered in gravy and shame."

A growl rumbled in Landon's throat, an echo of the beast beneath his skin. The air around him seemed to thicken, charged with an electric current only he could feel. His connection to Dakota flickered like a flame in the wind; he sensed her defiance, her fierce spirit refusing to bend, even as uncertainty coiled around him like a serpent. She hadn’t realized her true nature long enough to fully understand how the bonding link worked.

The call ended with a click, leaving Landon alone with the gathering dusk. He pushed away from the bar, movements deliberate as he stalked towards the door. His shadow stretched long behind him, a dark sentinel cast by the last rays of sun bleeding into the horizon.

Outside, Landon's truck stood as a solitary sentinel amidst the gravel lot. The crisp evening air bore no trace of her scent, the earth withholding its secrets as if it, too, feared what might lurk beyond the safety of the light.

Time was a luxury he couldn't afford. The sense of the impending threat grew, wrapping around him like a shroud. He would find her, bring her back from whatever edge she teetered upon.

And heaven help whoever dared stand in his way.

Grabbing his spare set of keys from his front pocket, he jumped into his truck and sped out of town toward the ranch. His heart hammered against his ribcage as he sped down the highway, arriving at the ranch as the moon started to rise.

Arriving at one of the larger outbuildings, he slammed on the brakes, spewing gravel everywhere. The chopper squatted inthe hangar like a dormant predator, its rotors still, begging for the chase. With deft movements born of countless hours spent navigating the skies, Landon prepared the craft for flight. The familiar scent of oil and metal filled his nostrils, a grounding presence amid the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to unseat his usual calm. He opened the door to the hangar and using the HeliTow cart, dragged the helicopter outside.

“Landon, what the hell?” Colt said, bolting out of the house.

“Dakota’s in danger. Her ex has taken her. I think they’re headed back to Cimarron Mesa.”

“You can’t go by yourself.”

“Can’t I? Get some of the men if you like, but I mean to end this tonight.” Landon jumped into the helicopter. “Stand clear,” he called before shutting the door and finishing his pre-flight check.

Moments later, the engine roared to life, a symphony of power that cut through the silence of the night. As the rotors began their hypnotic spin, the air around them shimmered with latent energy. Lifting off, Landon watched as the world below fell away and he ascended towards the heavens. The landscape morphed into a patchwork quilt of darker hues, an abstract painting only decipherable from this godlike vantage point.

He reached out to Dakota to see if he could feel her presence, feel her fear, and most importantly, he could get a sense of where they were headed.

‘Hang on, sweetheart. I’m coming.’

He couldn’t be sure if she could hear him from this distance, but if there was even a chance she could feel him coming, he waned her to know. The connection wasn’t strong enough to give him a specific location or even a lot of detail—having driven the same road recently, he recognized where they were headed almost immediately.

Landon set a course for Cimarron Mesa, tenacity etched in the hard lines of his jaw. The hum of the rotors melded with the pounding of his heart, a relentless cadence that propelled them forward, slicing through the darkened skies.

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