Page 25 of Alpha's Claim

They settled down, and Colt handed her a sandwich, watching as she nibbled at the corner. For a moment, everything felt easy. Simple.

But it wasn’t simple. Not really.

Colt leaned back on his elbows, his gaze steady on Briar. "You know, Briar, I’ve been real patient with you."

Briar stiffened slightly, setting her sandwich aside. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Colt held up a hand, his expression serious now. "I mean, I’ve given you time. I haven’t pushed. But I need to know the truth, Briar. I need to know what brought you here."

Briar’s lips parted, but Colt shook his head, cutting off whatever excuse she was about to offer. "No half-truths. No evasion. Let me tell you what I do know. This morning, three men showed up looking for you." His gaze darkened, and his voice dropped into a growl. "It’s all right; whatever it is I can handle it. I just need to know what I’m up against."

Briar stared at him for a long moment, her green eyes wide with a mix of fear and resignation. Then, slowly, she exhaled. "All right."

Colt sat up, his focus entirely on her as she began to speak.

"I know this may be hard to believe, but I’m a witch from a coven here in Texas," Briar said quietly. "My mother is... powerful. And controlling." She swallowed hard, her hands twisting in her lap. "The coven—my mother—arranged a marriage for me to a warlock from a neighboring coven."

Colt’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at the thought of anyone forcing Briar into something she didn’t want, although truth to tell, it had occurred to him more than once that forcing Briar’s hand might be the easiest way to resolve thingsbetween them. Once she was in his bed, he was sure he could convince her that it was the place she most wanted to be.

"It wasn’t a marriage for love," Briar continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was a power grab. Our union would’ve amplified the magic of both covens." She glanced away, her expression haunted. "He was cruel, Colt. Violent. And when I tried to refuse, he..." She trailed off, her voice cracking.

Fury rose within him. It was one thing to think he knew what had happened—quite another to know he’d been right. Colt’s heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice, and he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and promise her that no one would ever hurt her again, but he sensed she needed to get it out, to lay everything on the table.

"So I ran," Briar finished, her eyes meeting his. "When I showed up, I didn’t remember any of this. It’s only in the past few days my memory has returned. I had decided to leave here, too. I thought it would be safer that way."

Colt’s wolf snarled at the idea of her leaving—of her slipping away from him just when he’d found her.

"Not happening," Colt said, his voice rough with finality. "You’re not leaving, Briar. Ever."

Her breath hitched, and she shook her head. "Colt, you don’t understand...”

"I understand more than you think," he interrupted, his gaze fierce. "You’re mine, Briar. You belong here—with me. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone take you away."

The air between them crackled with tension, thick and electric. Colt leaned closer, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing softly over her skin. "I’ll protect you," he whispered, his voice low and full of promise. "No one’s gonna hurt you ever again."

Briar’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she looked like she might argue. But then she exhaled slowly, her shoulders sagging in surrender.

"Okay," she whispered.

Colt breathed a sigh of relief as something deeper, something fierce and possessive raised its head. She was his, and he wasn’t letting her go.

Colt sat back on his heels, absorbing everything Briar had just told him. Witches. She came from a coven of witches. Of all the things he might have imagined—criminals, rogue family members, or even some messed-up relationship drama—witches hadn’t been on his list.

But it didn’t change a damn thing. Not to him.

She was still his fated mate. His.

The knowledge settled deep in his bones, steady and unshakable. It didn’t matter what kind of magic she carried or what kind of trouble followed her. What mattered was that she was here now, with him. And no matter what came next, he wasn’t letting her go.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, the pieces falling into place. He couldn’t exactly be mad at her for hiding the truth about being a witch—not when he hadn’t told her his truth, either. Hell, she didn’t know he was a wolf-shifter. And once he claimed her, she’d become one, too. That thought filled him with a primal satisfaction—his wolf rumbling in approval at the idea of Briar becoming part of his pack, his world, his life.

He brushed his thumb along her cheek again, the warmth of her skin sending a bolt of heat through him. “It doesn’t matter, Briar,” he said softly. “Witch or not. I don’t care. You’re mine.”

Her green eyes widened slightly, her lips parting as if she wasn’t sure what to say. Colt held her gaze, his voice low and full of certainty. “I’ll take care of this. Whatever they think they can do, it won’t touch you here. I promise you that.”

For a moment, Briar looked torn, her brows knitting together. But Colt knew she felt it too—that connection between them. Whether she understood it yet or not, it was there, as real as the sun in the sky.

He shifted slightly, his hand sliding from her cheek to rest over hers. “Tonight, I want you to sit with me,” Colt murmured. “At dinner. At my side, where you belong.”