Page 11 of Alpha's Claim

For a moment, he seemed just as startled as she felt, as if neither of them had been prepared for the significance of their meeting. His expression flickered—something unreadable, but it passed quickly, replaced by a steady calm.

His words were simple, but they struck something deep inside her—a small, hidden part of her that had expected suspicion or demands. Instead, he gave her space. It was unexpected, and more comforting than she cared to admit.

“You’re welcome here,” Colt reiterated. His voice held a kindness that belied the strength radiating from him, a low rumble that felt like solid ground beneath her feet. “Make yourself at home.”

Briar nodded slowly, though her mind still swirled with questions and uncertainties. The way he stood there, calm and sure, made her feel like it might be possible to find her footing again—if only for a little while.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Colt inclined his head slightly, the flicker of something like understanding passing between them. Then, with one last lingering glance, he stepped back into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him. The moment he was gone, the room seemed colder, as if the warmth he carried had gone with him. It felt larger and quieter, the absence of his presence leaving a strange emptiness in its wake. Briar exhaled a long, shaky breath, pressing her fingers to her temples.

It was only a moment before a knock sounded on the door, and it opened again. A woman bearing a tray of delicious smelling food entered, Colt behind her. “This is Etta,” Colt said, “she’s been looking after you and will do so until she decides you can look after yourself.” The woman named Etta made a dismissive snort, bringing a smile to Colt’s face. “Get some rest.”

She had so many questions—about where she was, who Colt was, and what had happened to her before she stumbled into his life. But right now, all she could do was absorb the strange new reality she found herself in—a place that seemed safe for the moment, though she knew the peace wouldn’t last forever.

She glanced toward the window, where the sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor. Somehow, despite everything, it felt like a new beginning—a chance to breathe, to rest, and maybe even to heal, but from what, she wasn’t sure.

Briar settled back into a large, comfy chair by the window where she could look out at the vast grasslands that lay beyond the ranch buildings, her thoughts still tangled with fear and uncertainty. One truth stood out among the confusion: Colt was important to her and to her future. She wasn’t quite sure how or why, but something about him stirred parts of her that had been asleep for a very long time.

Whatever came next—whatever was waiting just beyond the horizon—she had the unsettling sense that Colt Savage was going to be right at the heart of it.

Chapter

Six

COLT

Colt strode down the hall, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor, heading toward the guest room where Briar had been sleeping. His thoughts were tangled, caught between the feral need to claim what was his and the calm logic that told him she was human and wouldn’t understand the pull he felt. Not yet. Not now.

She was his mate, and every fiber of his being wanted to close the distance between them, to pull her into his arms and keep her there forever. But Briar had a haunted look in her eyes, a skittishness that reminded him of a frightened doe. Whatever she’d been through, it had scarred her deeply, and if he wanted to earn her trust, he’d need patience—however difficult that might be.

As he approached the guest room door, a flicker of unease shot through him, cold and sharp, when he noticed the bed was empty. His heart slammed against his ribs, and his wolf surged forward, ready to tear through the ranch to find her if needed.

He stepped quickly into the room, his pulse hammering in his ears. The blankets were tossed aside, rumpled from sleep, but there was no sign of Briar. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His sharp ears caught the sound of waterrunning from the ensuite bathroom. The tension in his chest eased, and he exhaled, only now realizing he’d been holding his breath.

She just wanted to be clean.

Colt leaned against the door frame, dragging a hand through his hair, relieved but still on edge. His wolf bristled, restless, irritated that she had slipped out of his sight even for a moment. But Colt knew it was irrational—Briar wasn’t going anywhere.

The sound of the shower stopped, and Colt straightened instinctively, his senses honing in on the soft rustling of movement behind the bathroom door. A few moments later, the door creaked open, and Briar emerged, wrapped in a thick robe she’d found.

His robe.

The sight of her hit him like a punch to the gut.

Her damp curls tumbled loosely over her shoulders, still glistening with moisture. The robe clung to her curves, and her bare feet moved silently across the floor. She raised a hand to push her curls back, absently working out a few tangles with her fingers. There was something achingly vulnerable about the way she stood there—her eyes wary, her movements slow and deliberate—but she was more herself now, steadier than when she’d first stumbled into his life.

Colt’s wolf rumbled low in approval, urging him forward. Every part of him ached to close the space between them, to bury his nose in her hair, breathe in her scent, and reassure himself that she was safe and his.

But he forced himself to stay put, tightening his grip on the door frame. He could feel his muscles coiled with tension, a primal need simmering beneath the surface. She was his mate, and every instinct in him screamed to move faster—to pull her into his arms, to protect her, to keep her close.

But he knew better.

She was human. She wouldn’t understand the strength of the connection between them, not yet. And pushing too fast, too soon, would only scare her off. He couldn’t have that—not when he’d just found her.

“Good morning.” His voice was low, rich, and steady—a sound that sent a thrumming pulse through her veins.

“Morning…” she murmured.