Chapter 10 - Devon
She looked so small behind his desk, so wane. Those doe eyes were wide with fear again, round as saucers as she looked up at him. He fought the warring instincts inside of himself, first to rage at her, then to comfort her. Had she softened him so much already?
"I thought I might find you here," he said, shaking his head. "Guess that's on me for not putting a lock on the door."
"I can't believe you." Beth got to her feet and threw a folder at him, papers and photographs flying out and scattering around the room. "What is this? You've got a dossier on me? Do you know how creepy that is?"
He did. It had creeped him out, too, tracking her, studying her, before they'd made their move to kidnap her. But there had been no other choice.
"Mildly? I think it would've been worse if I'd just snatched the first female I'd found. What if she'd already been mated? I wouldn't want to break up a family." He knew levity was not the right choice then, but he couldn't help himself. It was that or anger.
"Is this a joke to you?" Tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes, making them look even bigger. He wanted to cross the space between them and brush them away. "Is my pack just a challenge? A trophy to mount on your wall?"
Devon growled in frustration. He couldn't make her understand what had driven him to this point. How could he expect her to grasp it? Her pack was like a family. It had stability, land to roam, and a purpose. It was nothing like what he had to contend with.
"You've finally figured it out. I've nothing but a trophy hunter, and the Rosewoods would make a fine addition to my collection." He didn't hold back his anger now, let it seep out in his words, and found it spark against her own.
She walked across the files on the floor to get to him, shoving him back with her hands. Trying to, anyway. She was too small to push him, too slight. He let her try again, and again.
"I hate you!" She choked the words out around a sob. "You're a monster. A monster!"
And he was. The things he had done would never wash off of his hands. So he let her rail on him until finally she pulled back and slapped him across the face with a sound like a whip crack.
His head whipped to the side, cheek stinging. She drew her hand back to slap him again, but this time, he caught her wrist and held it. Beth tried to wrench it free, but he tightened his grip, firm enough to feel like she was fighting against stone, but not enough to hurt the delicate bones there.
"Do you feel better now?" He asked as if speaking to a petulant child. Her mutinous look was all the reply he needed. "I didn't think so. Violence doesn't really help, in the end. It's a lesson I spent a long time learning, and the rest of my pack is learning it still."
She opened her mouth to speak, but he dragged her by the wrist over to the wall, interrupting her.
"Look at this," he said, using his free hand to jab a finger at the map on the wall. "This is our territory, and this is the Rosewood territory."
Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from him and focused on the map. He moved closer, just behind her, and leaned over her shoulder to point at a lake, a town.
"See all these resources? They're in the Rosewood territory. And what do we have over here?" He moved to the White Winter land, tracing the small space. "Nothing. Rocks. This house. A bit of forest. And a rundown town with more buildings than people. We've been driven to the edge."
Beth slumped. From the corner of his eye, he could see her worrying at her lower lip as she studied the map. He pressed forward, just enough to feel her against him, and she didn't pull away.
"The Rosewoods have left us no choice but to fight for every scrap. Maybe they don't realize what they've done, but the result is the same. Even a band of misfits has to have somewhere to go, Beth. They were driven from their packs, and maybe for good reason, but if you keep driving them, eventually they have to turn around and fight, or be driven off the edge."
He could feel her anger ebb away and longed to wrap his arm around her waist, pull her back against him, and kiss away the last of it. The need was so strong in him to possess her.
She turned to face him, close enough that he could count the freckles across her cheeks. Close enough to kiss.
"What if there's another way?" Her eyes were red-rimmed from her tears but they were shining now, determined.
Unable to hold back another second, Devon let his hand move to her hip, his finger finding skin beneath the hem of her shirt. She didn't shove him off, or shy from his touch, but she didn't encourage it either.
"What other way? It's territory; we fight for it, we earn it, and then we fight to keep it."
She shook her head. "That's what you've always done, right? And it hasn't worked, clearly. Look at the little scrap you're on."
He moved his hand up higher, to the curve of her waist. "Excuse you, it's gotten us everything we have. Without that, we'd have nothing at all."
But she wasn't listening, really, she pulled away from him to bend down and gather the papers she'd thrown across the floor. Devon groaned at the loss of her so close to him, of her skin beneath his fingertips. She didn't know she was driving him mad with need, which made it all the more difficult to focus.
She grabbed a photo and slapped it down on his desk. "This is Spencer, our alpha. I'm sure you know that already, with all this frankly disturbing surveillance."
Devon nodded. He liked watching her like this, determined, unafraid.
"He can be reasoned with. Especially now. He's got a family, a child, a mate, and he doesn't want conflict any more than you do. Well, probably far less than you do," she added ruefully. "I think if we go to him and try to strike a deal, I think he'll listen."
"Beth, I think you're looking at this through a very optimistic lens. He's an alpha. He's not going to willingly give up territory. it's against his nature."
"We have to at least try." She looked up at him, pleading. "Please. What's the worst that can happen if we just try? You say you want to change, that you want this pack to be more than its reputation. Well, it starts here."
She had a point. If they had to murder every last Rosewood to get their fair share of territory, it would not be the most auspicious start for the White Winter's new way of life. But there was no way the Rosewood alpha would go for it.
Beth was a dreamer. She thought the best of people, he could see her trying to find the good even in his pack of misfits, even in him. Her alpha was kind and generous to those in the pack, Devon was sure, but he would have no reason to extend that to the pack that had been nipping at his heels for all this time.
Still, he couldn't crush that hope in her. As long as she held on to it, she might soften toward him, might give them a real chance. So he'd do it. For her. He'd give diplomacy a try and even let the rest of his pack laugh in his face when he proposed the plan.
"Fine."
She clapped her hands together with a squeal of delight, then threw her arms around his neck. Startled, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. Beth gazed down at him, then pressed a quick, darting kiss to his lips, her legs tight around his waist.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she said, leaning her forehead against his. "You won't regret this, Devon, I swear. I know that Spencer can be reasoned with. I know we can find a way through this. Together."
With Beth in his arms, her kiss still hot on his lips, Devon could almost believe it. At that moment, he knew he'd do anything for her, anything to keep that childish hope alive in her. The White Winter pack had stolen her away, but she was determined to save them.
He wanted to help her try. Holding her close, clutching something good and light for the first time in his life, he swore he'd try.
"We will," he said, kissing her back. "I promise."