Page 12 of Alpha's Claim
She gave him a small, uncertain smile, still clutching the edges of the robe tightly around her, as if the fabric could shield her from whatever haunted her. She reminded him of a doe standing in the crosshairs, tense but not bolting. Whatever had happened to her, it had left her wary and on edge, and Colt knew he’d need to tread lightly.
“You look better,” he said, keeping his tone easy, as if she wasn’t the most captivating thing he’d ever seen standing barefoot in his guest room. His gaze swept over her, lingering just a moment longer than it should have, but he reined himself in. His wolf grumbled with impatience, but Colt pushed the urge down.
“You’re…” Briar’s voice faltered as she searched his face. “I think I’ve seen you before.”
He smiled at her. She felt it too. She might not know whatitwas, but he was sure she felt it. “We’ve crossed paths. You collapsed in my arms the other night. Quite the dramatic entrance.”
“You…” she began again, but the words trailed off.
“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said softly, trying to reassure her.
Briar seemed to falter. “I’m not. What’s your name?”
He tilted his head. “Colt.” Short. Simple. To the point.
Colt watched her closely, waiting. He needed to let her take her time. He actually needed to know more to know how much to push.
“Colt…” she whispered as if she was testing his name on her lips.
He felt the corners of his mouth rise. He could sense the effect he had on her and was glad of it. Colt took another step closer. For a long moment, they stood in silence, the only sound that of their breaths mingling in the sunlit room.
“You’ve been through a lot,” he rumbled. “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.” Colt stepped back, his gaze lingering on her for one last moment as he turned to leave. “You can stay as long as you need. This is Copper Canyon Ranch, just outside Austin.” Leaning against the door frame, he watched her face. “You burst into the dining hall two nights ago. It looked like you were... running from something.”
Briar tightened the robe around her as if it could shield her from the truth in his words.
Colt noticed the shift in her expression and offered her a small, reassuring smile. “You don’t have to tell me now. Whatever it is, whenever you’re ready.” He paused before adding, “You’re welcome here. Make yourself at home.”
Briar nodded slowly, but didn’t seem inclined to say anything else. After a moment he went through the door, pulling it closed behind him.
Almost as if on cue, the sound of footsteps approached, and Etta appeared in the hallway, a tray balanced expertly in her hands. The older woman arched an eyebrow at Colt and then at the door.
“Figured you’d want to make sure she got fed,” Etta said, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
Colt chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at Etta’s unspoken teasing. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, stepping aside to let her pass. “Make sure she eats, will you?”
Etta gave him a look that practically said ‘Don’t I always?’and walked to the door, waiting for him to open it. “You just focus on whatever it is you do,” she said dryly as she entered, setting the tray down on the small table by the window.
Colt chuckled again, the sound low and easy. Etta’s teasing was a welcome distraction, grounding him in the familiar rhythm of life on the ranch.
He stepped back into the doorway after the woman. “This is Etta; she’s been looking after you and will do so until she decides you can look after yourself.” Etta made a dismissive snort, bringing a smile to Colt’s face. “Get some rest.”
With one last glance at Briar—her green eyes watching him, still cautious but without fear—he tipped his head in a small nod. She returned the gesture, her expression unreadable, but there was something in her gaze—a flicker of trust, perhaps—that made his chest tighten. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Satisfied that she was in good hands, Colt turned away from her room. He could feel the obligation of his responsibilities as he left the guest room behind, but the thought of Briar lingered, warm and persistent in the back of his mind.
This was only the beginning, and Colt knew he had a long road ahead of him. But one thing was certain—he wasn’t letting Briar go. Not in this lifetime or any others to come. She was his fated mate, and he meant to claim her as such.
Colt made his way downstairs, his boots thudding against the hardwood with the steady rhythm of someone forcing himself to follow routine. His wolf itched to stay near Briar, to remain close and guard her, but he knew better. His presence made her nervous, though it wasn’t fear—not exactly. It was something else. She’d looked at him with something almost like recognition, but there had been uncertainty too, as though she wasn’t sure what to do with the pull between them.
In some ways he found it reassuring as she seemed to feel the bond between them, just didn’t know what it was or what to do with it. But at least she hadn’t rejected him, not outright.
Colt exhaled slowly as he reached the bottom of the stairs. If he hovered, he’d only make things worse. She needed space to get her bearings, and he needed to keep his head clear. There was work to do, horses to check on, and other tasks to keep his restless wolf in line. For now, he would give her the room to breathe, even if it gnawed at him not to be close.
Outside, the sun had climbed higher, burning off the lingering mist that had come with the dawn. The ranch stretched out before him, alive with the steady hum of work—cattle and horses being tended to, ranch hands going about their business, and the rhythmic clang of gates opening and closing. Colt’s boots made a distinctive sound against the hard-packed dirt as he headed toward the round corral where his youngest brother, Bryce, was working a young horse.
The unbroke mare circled the pen, tossing her head and kicking up dust as Bryce whistled and swung the lunge line. The young horse resisted at first, then grudgingly fell into step with the rhythm Bryce set, her ears flicking back and forth, half listening and half testing his patience.
Colt crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the fence to watch. “She’s stubborn,” he commented, nodding toward the horse.