Page 14 of Alpha's Claim

She was his fated mate, whether she knew it or not. And whatever it took, he would protect her because now that he’d found her, there was no going back. He would never let her go.

Chapter

Seven

BRIAR

Briar sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts swirling as she tried to piece together fragments of her dreams and memories, everything still tangled in a hazy fog. The sound of a soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts as Colt opened the door, ushering in Etta with a tray laden with food—eggs, toast, fresh fruit, and a steaming mug of coffee. The older woman’s sharp eyes softened as she smiled warmly at Briar, setting the tray on the small table by the bed.

“Well, now,” Etta said, her voice warm and laced with familiarity. “How about we get some food into you, sweetheart? You’re looking much better, but you’ll need your strength if you plan on wandering around today.”

“Am I allowed to do that?”

“Why, of course you are. You’re our guest, not our prisoner.”

Briar grinned at Etta’s friendly demeanor and the delicious aromas coming from the tray. The smell of the food made her stomach growl, a reminder that it had been too long since she’d eaten anything substantial. She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was until now.

Etta sat down in the chair opposite hers by the window, her hands folded in her lap as she watched Briar take her first fewbites. Her presence was comforting, like an anchor in unfamiliar waters.

“Colt said the ranch is just outside of Austin,” said Briar between bites of food. “This is delicious, by the way.”

Etta beaned. “I’m glad you like it. Copper Canyon Ranch belongs to Colt and his brothers. They run the place, and it’s home to the whole pack.”

Briar blinked, setting down her fork. “The whole pack?”

Etta gave her a knowing smile. “Yes, those of us who work here.” She tilted her head, studying Briar with a kind but assessing gaze. “I think you’ll like it here. But you’ll need to come out of this room to find that out for yourself.”

Briar hesitated, her fingers curling around the handle of the coffee mug. The thought of venturing downstairs, of interacting with anyone else, made her stomach twist with unease.

As if sensing her reluctance, Etta reached out and patted Briar’s hand reassuringly. “Take your time, darling. But you can’t stay holed up in this room forever. You’d miss out on so much this place has to offer.”

Briar offered a small nod, more to herself than to Etta. The ranch felt peaceful, even safe, despite the questions gnawing at her. Maybe it was time to step out and see what lay beyond the walls of this room.

After finishing the meal, Briar set the tray aside and wiped her hands on the napkin. Etta stood up, brushing invisible lint from her apron.

“Why don’t you get dressed and head downstairs?” Etta suggested. “A bit of fresh air will do you good.”

Briar hesitated, then gave a small nod. “All right.”

Etta smiled, satisfied. “I’ll be around if you need anything.” With that, she slipped out the door, leaving Briar alone once more.

Dressed in simple jeans and a loose-fitting top she found in the dresser, Briar felt more like herself. The clothes were plain but comfortable, fitting her well enough, though she had no idea how they’d gotten here. She tied her curls into a loose braid and slipped on a pair of butter-soft cowboy boots before making her way toward the door.

Her fingers lingered on the knob for a moment before she turned it, stepping into the hallway beyond with a mix of caution and curiosity.

The house was quiet except for the occasional creak of wood settling and the distant hum of conversation downstairs. The morning light streamed in through the windows at either end of the hall, casting warm patches of sunlight on the floorboards.

Taking a deep breath, Briar started down the stairs, her hand trailing along the smooth wood of the banister. She tried to ignore the nervous flutter in her chest, telling herself it was just a set of stairs—nothing more. There was no danger here.

At least, she hoped not.

But as she rounded the landing, a woman appeared at the top of the staircase. Her sharp eyes raked over Briar, her lips curling into a thin smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She blocked the stairwell as if she owned the house, her posture radiating a subtle challenge.

“Well, well,” Elle drawled, her tone sickly sweet. “If it isn’t the little stray the storm blew in.”

Briar stiffened, though she kept her expression carefully neutral. The tension was immediate, like two predators sizing each other up.

“You are?” Briar asked, keeping her voice even.