Alphas of Red Moon Ranch(56)

“You’re my princess,” he murmured as he gazed down at her, his eyes filled with love.

“No,” she said. “You’re my king. And I’m your queen.”





Chapter 44


In the dark shadows of the night, when they were tangled up in each other and their heartbeats had finally resumed a normal pace, Jacob told Holly everything. He told her how Brent had dragged him to a setup in the middle of the woods. He told her that Miranda had come out, claws extended, and run his Beast in circles. He told her about the fight. How he thought he’d hurt the boy.

“Are you okay?” she asked finally, her head pressed to his chest.

He stared up at the ceiling and toyed with her hair. “I feel like I’m running out of sand in my hourglass. It’s getting harder and harder to come back. I’ve got two changes left, at best. Maybe less.”

“You can’t let them get to you. You know that.”

“Yeah.”

Silence filtered in through the holes in their conversation.

“What are you going to do now?” Holly asked.

“Deal with Brent. And Miranda. Lead the clan, like always.”

“He’s your brother,” Holly reminded softly.

“And a traitor.” Jacob’s voice was hard, stony.

“Be the man,” Holly said, rolling over and propping herself up on her elbows to look down at him. “Not the Beast. Promise me.”

Jacob’s eyes met hers. “I promise.”





Chapter 45


Jacob pounded his fist on Brent’s door over and over until he heard the lock unlatch. A light rain pattered outside, dampening Jacob’s denim jacket and misting on the warm soil below. The hinges creaked as the door opened a couple inches and then stopped, just wide enough for Brent to poke his head out and see Jacob on the other side. There was no mistaking the ghost-white pallor of his cheeks or the fear he swallowed back. Hard.

“Boss,” Brent began hesitantly, “I can explain…”

“Can it,” Jacob barked sternly. Brent’s jaw snapped closed instantly. “I know you set me up. You put me in front of that cougar and figured I wouldn’t be coming back.”

“It ain’t like that,” Brent started, but Jacob cut him off.

“Don’t tell me it was for the good of the clan. You got a little tail and you let it walk circles around you. You’re weak. And I can’t have a weak Beta on my side.”

Brent’s eyes got real wide at that. “What’re you saying?”

“You’re not welcome in this clan anymore. You have two weeks to find somewhere else to stay.”

Brent looked like he wanted to crawl under the foundation of the house and die. “Boss—”

“That’s my only offer. I think I’m being more than generous. Another Alpha would throw you out tonight.”

Brent went quiet at that. Be a man echoed in Jacob’s head. But being a man hurt, especially when his brother was looking so hangdog in front of him. Jacob wanted to forgive and forget; Brent had been his right hand for as long as he could remember. More than that, he was his brother, his best friend.

Which made the betrayal sting that much deeper, like a knife stuck in his bones.

“I understand,” was all Brent said at first. Then he added, “I’ll earn my way back into this clan.”

“Don’t bet on it.” Harsh? Maybe. But Jacob had to lay down the law. The violence was gone from his temper. Instead, his voice was cold steel, controlled. Brent started to close the door, “Brent.” His brother stopped in his spot and looked up at him. A lethal smile cut across Jacob’s mouth. “You tell that furry bitch if I see her around here again, I’m ripping her limb from limb.”

Brent nodded once and mumbled something obedient under his breath as he scurried back inside before he suffered the brunt of Jacob’s rage. Jacob had Brent tucking tail and running and all without a single show of fang.

That man enough for you? he thought to himself as he flipped back the collar of his denim jacket and made his way back up the hill in long, powerful strides.





Chapter 46


St. Mary’s Presbyterian Church was small but—in Holly’s opinion—mighty. Its white walls and copper-green doors opened up to a steady flood of people Sunday morning as the old brass bell clanged in the belfry. Jacob and Holly walked inside, hand-in-hand. Jacob cleaned up well enough—as much as he could, anyway. A pair of nice slacks, a clean shirt without too much wear and tear, hair combed back. Holly wore a modest spring-inspired blue denim dress dotted with tiny white flower blossoms.

“Holly Westmore. Getting used to the big house on the hill?” The corners of Pastor Mitchell’s eyes crinkled when he smiled and he offered her his hand at the church doors.