Chapter 15 - Beth

The weekend spent at the cabin had loosened all the tension from Beth's body, as good as any day spent at the spa. She looked up at the sky, the puffy white clouds passing by across the ceaseless blue, and wished she could bottle that feeling, keep it with her when she walked in the front door of the White Winter house. She'd need it.

Devon had kept his promise and let Emma and Jonah run the show while he and Beth were away, but he hadn't even checked in on them once. That meant they had no idea what they were walking into as they reached the house's shade.

"Well, it's still standing," Beth said, hands on hips.

He stopped beside her. A few days out, his skin had tanned golden, bringing out the flecks of shade in his eyes. He was, somehow, even more handsome in this tousled, woodsman state.

The smell of wood smoke clung to them both, and she treasured it, like bringing some of the serenity, the closeness, they'd found out there back with them.

"Are you ready?" He asked, taking her hand. "Remember, no matter what, you've got me."

She lifted her chin. She wouldn't let them get to her. Not even Emma. "Let's do this,"

The house was quiet. A midday slump, some wolves still abed perhaps, or down in the gym.

"Want an escort to your room? Then I'll head to my office, and check in on things," he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"I'll come with you to your office. Remember, we're a team now. You can't lock me in my room under guard and still have everyone think of me as your luna."

Devon shouldered the backpack, scratching at his beard. It had grown thick enough to call it one over the weekend, the stubble darkening until it was long enough for her to tug. She rather liked the look on him but realized he could do pretty much anything with his appearance, and she'd still find him handsome. It must be the hormones.

"To be fair, it gave you time to get well acquainted with Jonah, and now you even have a friend." He held the door for her, letting her lead the way to his office.

"You can't take credit for that. You can't set up a prisoner with their jailor and then pat yourself on your back if they don't come to blows—"

She startled backward when the office door burst open, dodging the swinging wood.

"There you are." Emma stood in the doorway. For once, she looked less than perfect. Her hair was unbrushed, and her face was bare, lacking her signature eyeliner. "Get in here, we have things to discuss. Major things."

"What happened?' Beth asked, making to follow her in.

Emma held up an arm, blocking her way into the room. "I wasn't talking to you, Rosewood, I was talking to Devon."

Beth looked at Devon. He avoided her gaze. Something shifted inside her, a thread of unease winding its way up.

"Maybe you should give us a minute, Beth," he said, still not looking at her.

Emma smirked, triumphant, and Beth was too shocked by Devon's answer to protest until Emma had already shut the door in her face. She stood there in the hallway, staring at the closed office door, feeling like the biggest fool in the world.

She never should have given herself to Devon. She never should have opened herself up to him, physically or emotionally. He had played his part over the weekend and swayed her to mate with him, though it hadn"t taken much if she were honest with herself. It was impossible to deny how badly she wanted him. Her body would react to him regardless of her head screaming no.

Beth braced herself, a hand on the wall, as she felt the swell of panic in her stomach. Her breaths came short and fast. The memory of the two of them, entwined and smiling, was now a knife to her pride. All it required was a moment with Emma to make Devon forget what he'd promised her, the way he'd told her they'd be in this together as a team.

Fighting the urge to go to her room and fling herself down on the bed, she leaned closer to the wall and pressed her ear against it. At first, their words were too muffled to make out. But Beth's hearing was excellent, and as she calmed her breathing, she could hear them speaking, Devon's deeper voice clearer than Emma's.

"They did what?" He was angry, she could tell from the clipped ends of his words. She imagined him hunched over his desk, knuckles white.

The first part of Emma's sentence was lost. "—best hunting ground. We've got practically nothing left, Dev. They're driving us to the edge. We have to fight back, and we have to do it soon."

They must be talking about the Rosewoods. Beth pictured the map hanging in Devon's office. The territory markings had painted a bleak picture for the White Winters. It was a problem Beth was still trying to solve, as Devon was adamantly against relocating the White Winters entirely, to an uncontested area. He wanted to stay in this part of the forest for a reason, but he hadn't yet explained it to Beth. More secrets. More reasons not to trust him.

She brought her attention back to the muffled conversation. Emma was talking again.

"Don"t come back here with your pathetic talk of treaties and peace. After that humiliation last night, the pack won't hear of it. And do you really think the Rosewoods are going to shake hands with you after you kidnapped one of their own? Be real about this. All that will happen if you meet up with them is they'll try to kill you and have the advantage."

He was trying, at least. He hadn't thrown their plan aside entirely, only decided to leave Beth out of it. But why? What was he trying to hide from her? They could never be equals if he kept her out of discussions like this.

"I figured you'd like that part of the plan," Devon replied. "A chance to do away with me without any blood on your hands."

"Be serious, Dev. Nothing would make us look weaker than losing our alpha. What are we going to do? We need this land back. If we launch an assault on—"

"Enough, Em. I just got home. I need a minute to get my thoughts in order, and there's nothing we need to do right now. Give me time, and I'll call a meeting. Where's Jonah?"

Beth backed away from the wall and headed for her room, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping when they came out of the office. She couldn't imagine anything more mortifying, except maybe her mate refusing to let her in the room in the first place.

At the last minute, she changed her mind and headed down to the gym. She hadn't been down there yet other than on Jonah's first tour of the place, but the idea of working off some of her rage was appealing just then.

She peeked her head in and found it empty. A punching bag hung down from the ceiling, and a basket of hand wraps and gloves was beside it. Back home, she'd taken some kickboxing classes with Adria and had enjoyed them, and the idea of punching something was enticing.

Wrapping her hands with care, Beth stepped up and hit the bag, tentatively at first. In a moment, she was in a flow, letting each hit draw some of the anger from her body. How dare he exclude her like that? It gave more power to Emma, to the rest of the pack, and took it away from her.

She was the luna. If he wasn't going to allow her to take that role on in truth, if he expected her to be nothing more than a figurehead, a mate in name alone, he would have another thing coming. Thunk, kick, whack. Each strike on the bag drove home her determination.

She couldn't go back to the Rosewoods anymore. For better or worse, she was a White Winter now, which meant she'd carve her space out in the pack. Did Devon think he could drag her here, kidnap her, and then brush her aside once she mated with him?

Emma's words early on came back to her. Broodmare. Beth growled as she hit the bag with a cross, then followed it up with a knee strike. Had that been Devon's intention for her, and his affections nothing more than a means of achieving that goal?

She was sweating now, and the sting of salt in her eyes felt like a release. No more crying. No more weakness. But no matter how much she punched and, kicked and elbowed, she couldn't shake the pang of sorrow that had nestled itself beneath her ribs. Betrayal. She had let Devon in, and he had disappointed her.

"Woah," said a familiar voice from the doorway. Jonah came into view, eyebrows up in concern. "I've never seen you work out before, and uh, it's a little scary. Hope it's not my face you're imagining on there."

He stayed well back from her and Beth didn't slow, though her muscles were starting to flag.

"Not yours," she said, around heavy breaths, "Devon's."

"Uh oh. This weekend didn't go well? I saw you two coming in and thought you looked almost happy. What happened?" He came up and held the bag for her, cushioning her blows.

"I gave myself to him, Jonah. I thought…" she choked back a sob, refusing to let the tears out, "I thought he meant it when he said we'd lead together."

Jonah frowned. "I know he meant it. He wants you as his partner. His luna."

"Yeah? Then why did he shut me out of a meeting with Emma the second we got back? Practically slammed the door in my face. I can't be his luna if he doesn't let me in."

"I wonder," Jonah began, then stopped, seeming to think better of it.

Beth finally stopped her assault on the bag. Sweat ran down her body. "What is it?"

"Well, I'm guessing they were talking about the latest Rosewood attack. I bet he still isn't sure quite where your loyalties lie, you know? Like, are you a Rosewood, or are you a White Winter?"

It was a question she'd been wrestling with herself, and she knew she couldn't really blame Devon for having the same doubts that she was, but it stung nonetheless. After they'd mated, after their talks, she'd assumed he could no longer question her loyalties. And how dare he to begin with? He'd wrenched her away from her family. Did he want her to drop them without a second thought?

"I'm a White Winter now, and he should know that. If he can't trust me, I can't do this, Jonah. I won't do this."

She made up her mind then. Either Devon let her share in the leadership, or she would leave. Not back to the Rosewoods, where her presence would create a constant tension with the White Winters, but somewhere on her own.

The irony of becoming a rogue wolf, like the formation of the White Winters, was not lost on her.

"Give him some time for it to sink in. He has trust issues," Jonah said, eyes pleading.

Beth unwrapped her hands and tossed the damp wraps into the laundry basket.

"We all have issues. It's not an excuse for treating people badly. He can face this with me, or he'll be facing it without me. I won't be here halfway."

"Beth—" Jonah said, reaching out to catch her arm as she walked by.

She dodged his hand and trotted up the stairs. Halfway up, guilt crept in. It wasn't Jonah's fault that Devon had hurt her. It wasn't his fault that Devon didn't trust her. And she knew it would take more than a weekend, But he was running out of time to prove himself, and she hoped he knew it.