Page 10 of Alpha's Claim
“You look better,” he said, taking a step closer.
The sunlight behind him cast a soft halo along his shoulders. The way he moved—fluid and deliberate—reminded her again of the wolf from her dreams. A creature with power coiled beneath its skin, strength held in reserve, waiting to be unleashed.
Her heart pounded in her chest, but not from fear. No, what she felt was something far more dangerous than fear—something that spread like a slow flame through her limbs.
She shouldn’t feel this way. And yet, she did. Her body reacted instinctively, as if recognizing him on a level that went deeper than logic.
“You’re…” Briar’s voice faltered as she searched his face, struggling to match dream with reality. “I think I’ve seen you before.”
He gave a small, knowing smile. “We’ve crossed paths. You collapsed in my arms the other night. Quite the dramatic entrance.”
Something in his words tugged at her memory, elusive and hazy. Her dreams had been full of fragmented images—a man bathed in moonlight, his hand reaching toward her, his presence a lifeline in the chaos. And here he was now, standing beforeher, not a figment of her imagination but real and solid, as if the dream had bled into waking life.
“You…” she began again, but the words trailed off as her gaze dropped, lingering on the strong curve of his jaw, the stubble shadowing his face, and the way his shirt stretched across the planes of his chest.
She could smell the faintest hints of leather and earth on him, a scent that stirred something primal inside her—something she didn’t know she was capable of feeling.
A blush crept up her neck, warmth pooling low in her belly. She looked away quickly, pretending to smooth the robe across her lap, though the effort felt futile. The tension between them was palpable, a quiet current pulling her toward him whether she wanted it or not.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said softly, as if reading the flicker of uncertainty that crossed her face.
Briar’s heart stuttered, caught between relief and confusion. She believed him. She didn’t know why, but she did. Something about his presence grounded her.
“I’m not. What’s your name?” she asked, her voice softer than she intended.
The man tilted his head slightly, those dark, unreadable eyes never leaving hers. “Colt Savage.”
The name settled over her, familiar and solid, as if it had already been etched into her memory. Colt. It fit him perfectly—strong, steady, and a little wild.
For a moment, Briar couldn’t think straight. Her pulse thrummed beneath her skin, and the slow, simmering heat that had sparked earlier began to build, leaving her breath shallow and uneven.
Colt watched her closely, as though waiting for her to say something more. But Briar couldn’t find the words. Every part of her felt aware of him—too aware. The room, the morning light,the distant chirping of birds outside the window—all of it faded into the background, leaving only him.
It was overwhelming, and yet... she didn’t want him to leave.
“Colt…” she whispered, testing the sound of it on her lips.
His gaze darkened slightly, and the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on her and was glad of it.
Briar clenched her fists, willing herself to focus, but the heat swirling between them was relentless. It gnawed at the edges of her resolve, whispering that maybe she wasn’t as alone as she had thought.
Colt took another step closer, and the space between them seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken things. Briar felt the urge to reach for him, to place her hand against the warm skin of his arm just to ensure he was real.
Her hand twitched toward him—but she stopped herself just in time, curling her fingers into the folds of the robe instead. This was dangerous. He was dangerous—she could sense that. She didn’t even know him. And yet, she felt like she did. Like she had known him all along.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, the only sound that of their breaths mingling in the sunlit room. Neither dared to make the next move.
“You can stay as long as you need,” he said, his voice low and warm. “This is Copper Canyon Ranch, just outside Austin.” He leaned slightly against the door frame, his posture easy, but his gaze never left her face. “You burst into the dining hall two nights ago. It looked like you were... running from something.”
Briar’s breath caught, and she tightened the robe around her as if it could shield her from the truth in his words. She glanced down at the faint bruises along her arm, trying to suppress the ripple of fear that threatened to rise again.
Colt must have noticed the shift in her expression because his eyes softened, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to tell me now,” he added, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “Whatever it is, whenever you’re ready. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you sit and rest? We’ll talk when you’re ready. You’ll find some clothes that should fit in the dresser.”
Briar blinked, the spell between them breaking just enough for her to regain her senses. She gave a small nod, her heart still hammering in her chest.
Colt stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for one last moment before he turned toward the door. Briar let out a shaky breath. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart beneath her palm. Whatever had just happened between them, it was far from over.
He paused at the door, one hand resting lightly on the doorknob. He turned back to her, his gaze lingering, sweeping over her in a way that felt both assessing and careful—not intrusive, but deliberate. It wasn’t rude or suggestive, but it still made Briar’s skin tingle, as though his dark eyes could see through her, peeling back the layers she didn’t want anyone to touch.