Page 27 of Alpha's Claim
He was almost there.
A glint of metal caught his eye behind him—the buggy, winding its way along the road toward the ranch. Briar was a dark silhouette on the driver’s seat, her hands tight on the reins.
Colt bared his teeth in a silent snarl and pushed himself harder. His paws thudded against the ground in a relentless rhythm, his wolf urging him forward with a single-minded purpose:beat her there. Don’t let her leave.
The ranch house came into view just ahead, the barn and outbuildings tucked neatly against the landscape. Colt surged forward, his muscles coiling as he launched himself up a small rise.
With one last powerful bound, he charged into the barn, skidding to a halt as he forced his wolf to give up control.
“Colt? What the hell?” said Bryce.
“Keep everyone out of the barn. Find Elle, escort her to her room and make sure she doesn’t leave. Tell her she’s going to have a lot of explaining and apologizing to do to my mate.”
“Damn. So chivalry and romance are out the window and alpha wolf domination has taken its place.” Bryce was downright gleeful. If he didn’t have other things—more pressing things—to do, he’d punch his little brother in the face.
Briar drove the horse and buggy through the empty barnyard and into the stable. Colt stood tall, proud and naked, his golden eyes glowing in the fading light. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. He simply stared at her, his gaze locked on her. Her hands faltered on the reins, her expression shifting from anger to shock. For a moment, she simply stared back at him, her breath catching in her throat.
Colt huffed softly, satisfaction rumbling through his chest. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not without him. The horse nickered nervously, shifting under Briar’s hands, but Colt remained where he was, his gaze steady and unyielding.
Briar may have thought they were through, but Colt? Colt knew they were just getting started.
Chapter
Eleven
BRIAR
Briar snapped the reins again, her heart thundering in her chest as the buggy raced down the narrow trail. Colt’s shouts echoed behind her, sharp and commanding, but she bit down on her lip, refusing to look back. She wouldn’t let him see the tears burning at the corners of her eyes. Not him. Not anyone.
“Briar, wait! Damn it—stop!” Colt’s voice cut through the wind as he whistled, a sharp, clear sound that carried across the hills. The horse’s ears flicked at the sound, but, to Briar’s relief, it didn’t slow. She didn’t understand how or why, but the horse wasn’t responding to him. It only answered her commands, and she wasn’t about to waste that chance.
“Keep going,” she murmured to the horse, urging it faster. The wind whipped through her hair, tugging loose strands from her braid. “Come on, boy. Don’t let me down.”
She heard Colt’s voice behind her again, his deep timbre carried on the breeze. “It’s not what you think! There’s no fiancée—no engagement! Damn it, Briar, stop the buggy!”
She clenched her jaw, the sting of betrayal bitter in her mouth. How stupid had she been? She’d known better—shealwaysknew better. But this time—this time she’d let her guarddown. She’d let herself believe, even if only for a moment, that there might be something real between them. Something worth staying for, but she’d been wrong.
The buggy bumped and jostled along the uneven path, but Briar barely noticed. Her mind whirled, her heart cracking under the weight of Colt’s lies. She’d seen the ring on Elle’s finger—heard the smug, satisfied way the woman had warned her off. An engagement since childhood, Elle had said. A bond so strong it had been practically inevitable.
An embittered laugh escaped her lips, carried away by the wind. Was she really that kind of woman? The kind who tempted someone away from a relationship? Had she tempted Colt? Her stomach churned at the thought. She’d told herself she wasn’t interested—that she was only staying at the ranch because it felt safe, because the garden gave her purpose. But that had been a lie, hadn’t it? Shehadbeen developing feelings for him.
How could he do this to her? To Elle?
The thought of it—of her role in whatever this was—made her feel sick. Briar gripped the reins tighter, her knuckles white, as if she could outrun the shame creeping over her. Hope was a dangerous thing and she’d been a fool to allow herself to do so. Weak.
A part of her whispered that maybe Colt was telling the truth. Maybe there had been a misunderstanding. But Briar squashed the thought before it could take root. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. She didn’t want to listen to him try to smooth things over with that warm, seductive, infuriating voice of his. She couldn’t bear it.
Ahead, the trail opened into a gentle slope, and Briar urged the horse faster—the faster she ran, the sooner she could put distance between herself and the mess she’d stumbled into.
But just as the buggy hit a smoother stretch of ground, Briar heard something strange—something that made her blood run cold. Laughter. Colt’s laughter.
What the hell?
The sound startled her, sharp and warm, as if he was amused by the whole situation. It grated against her frayed nerves, twisting something deep inside her. Why was he laughing? What could possibly be funny? And how had it carried on the wind? Had it truly done that, or was it just her imagination playing tricks on her?
Her hands tightened on the reins, her jaw clenching so hard it ached. She’d left him behind—on foot, no less. He had no way to catch up, and yet...
The sound of his laughter drifted through the air again, and her chest tightened. He shouldn’t be laughing. He should be chasing her, shouldn’t he? Or at least calling after her, desperate to explain. But instead, he was laughing, like the entire thing was some kind of joke.