Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
brIAR
T he morning sun spilled through the curtains, casting its warm, golden light through the windows and French doors. Briar stirred beneath the covers, the scent of fresh coffee tickling her senses even before she opened her eyes. She felt the familiar weight of Colt’s arm draped over her waist, his body warm and solid against her back. A contented sigh escaped her lips as she let herself relax into the moment, her hand resting atop his.
“You awake, sweetheart?” Colt’s low, sleepy voice rumbled behind her, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.
Briar smiled, her eyes still closed. “Barely.”
Colt’s chuckle was deep and comforting, vibrating through her skin. “Coffee’s ready.”
Briar finally opened her eyes, blinking against the soft light. “You’re a saint.”
“Saint Savage, huh?” Colt teased, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder before sliding out of bed. “I kind of like the sound of that, but it was Etta. You should know, she has never once brought my brothers or me coffee.”
Briar laughed as she sat up, letting the covers pool in her lap and loving the way Colt’s eyes roamed over her body possessively and lovingly, lingering on her rapidly pebbling nipples. She watched Colt as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got up, walking to where Etta had left them a tray, gloriously unbothered by his own nakedness or the cool morning air. His easy, unguarded manner was something Briar had come to cherish. There was a simplicity to their mornings now—a natural rhythm that made her feel more at home than she ever had before.
A few minutes later, Colt returned to their bed with two steaming mugs of coffee. He handed one to her, then settled back on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard.
Briar took a sip, humming with pleasure. “Perfect, as always.”
Colt grinned, his golden eyes warm as he watched her. “You’re easy to impress.”
She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow. “Not true.”
They sipped their coffee in companionable silence, the kind that didn’t need filling. Briar leaned against Colt’s side, her head resting on his shoulder, and he slid an arm around her without hesitation.
It was moments like these—quiet, unhurried—that made her feel as though they’d been together for a lifetime rather than the short time it had actually been. There was no need for pretense or small talk. Just the simple pleasure of being together, sharing the same space, the same warmth.
After a while, Colt tilted his head to press a kiss to her temple. “Shower?” he murmured against her skin.
Briar smiled, setting her empty mug on the nightstand. “Lead the way.”
Colt was already pulling her to her feet, his grin wicked. “Now, you know what’s going to happen if we share a shower.”
“Mm-hmm.” Briar bit her bottom lip, feeling a delicious thrill race through her at the promise in his voice. “That’s kind of the point.”
Colt growled low in his throat, sweeping her up into his arms without warning. Briar laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her into the bath.
The hot spray of water enveloped them as soon as they stepped inside. Colt wasted no time, his hands roaming over her body, slick with water and soap. Briar gasped as he pressed her back against the cool tiles, his mouth finding hers in a slow, intoxicating kiss.
Every touch, every kiss felt like a conversation between them—a language only they spoke. Colt’s hands skimmed down her sides, teasing and coaxing until Briar melted against him, her nails digging lightly into his shoulders.
They took their time, savoring every moment, every touch. By the time they finally emerged from the shower, breathless and glowing with satisfaction, the day had fully arrived, but neither of them were in any hurry to leave the sanctuary they’d created.
Colt handed Briar a towel, his grin lazy and satisfied. “If we keep this up, we’re going to miss breakfast. I’m headed out with Landon to check on the herd we moved earlier this week,” he said, dressing quickly. “I’ll just grab something I can eat on horseback. You should stay inside and take it easy. Etta thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard.”
“Good thing I don’t have to listen to Etta,” Briar teased, wrapping the towel around herself.
Colt kissed the tip of her nose. “You better take it easy, and I’ll see you for lunch.”
Briar laughed, swatting at him with her towel as she stepped out of the bath. “I’ll be there. Try not to miss me too much until then.”
“I’ll do my best, but I’m not promising anything.”
He kissed her again before heading off to join Landon. Briar lingered a little longer, enjoying the slow warmth of their shared morning. After pulling on her gardening clothes, she trotted down the stairs, grabbing a quick breakfast before making her way outside, the cool breeze brushing against her skin. The ranch was already bustling with life—the sounds of horses in the distance, the occasional bark of a dog, and the familiar hum of the land waking up.
As she wandered toward the barn, the little yellow cat that had adopted her appeared out of nowhere, winding around her legs with a soft purr. “Hey there, trouble,” Briar murmured, crouching down to scratch behind the cat’s ears. The feline purred louder, leaning into her touch with unabashed affection.
Briar scooped the cat into her arms, cradling it against her chest as she made her way to the garden. The small creature had become a constant companion, always nearby whenever she worked among the plants. It reminded her that even the most independent souls could find comfort in companionship—something she was learning firsthand with Colt.
When she reached the garden, Briar set the cat down and began her work. The plants were thriving, responding to her care with new growth and vibrant blooms. She knelt in one of the beds, gently plucking away dead leaves and weeds, her hands moving with practiced ease.
The scent of lavender and rosemary filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly turned soil. This was her sanctuary—her place of peace. And now, it was beginning to feel like home.
Briar hummed softly as she worked, her thoughts drifting to Colt. The easy rhythm of their relationship surprised her, but it also filled her with a sense of belonging she hadn’t expected. Being with him was like tending a garden—slow, steady, and deeply satisfying.
The yellow cat curled up in a patch of sunlight nearby, its tail flicking lazily as it watched her. Briar smiled, feeling a strange sense of contentment settle over her.
For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t running. She wasn’t hiding. She was exactly where she wanted to be. And later, when she met Colt for lunch, she knew it would feel just as easy, just as right. Because here, with him, she had finally found something worth holding on to.
The sun was warm on Briar’s skin as she knelt beside the garden bed, gently loosening the soil with her fingers. The small yellow cat dozed in a patch of sunlight nearby, purring softly, utterly at peace. The sight made Briar smile. Moments like these—simple and unhurried—were becoming more precious to her.
She stood, brushing the dirt from her hands, and stretched, inhaling the sweet scent of lavender and rosemary. This garden had become a symbol of her healing, each flower and herb carefully chosen and nurtured. It was taking shape, finally becoming what she had imagined the moment she’d first set foot in it.
Still humming softly, Briar moved to the far side of the garden to check on the newly planted flowers she’d tucked into the beds the previous day. But the moment her eyes landed on the space, her heart stopped.
She froze, her mind struggling to process the scene before her. The flowers—those vibrant, delicate blossoms—had been ripped from the soil, their roots dangling uselessly in the dirt. The neat rows of herbs she’d painstakingly arranged were trampled, their leaves bruised and broken. Even the small stone markers she’d placed to keep track of the different plants had been overturned, scattered across the ground like debris after a storm.
The devastation was total.
Briar’s heart clenched painfully in her chest, her stomach twisting with a combination of disbelief and rage. It was as if all her hard work, all the care and effort she’d poured into this space, had been spat on. Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms as a wave of hot anger surged through her. She knew immediately who was responsible. There was no doubt in her mind.
"Elle," Briar whispered through gritted teeth.
It made perfect sense. The she-wolf hadn’t taken Colt’s rejection well, and it was clear that she was determined to lash out in any way she could. This garden—Briar’s sanctuary—was the perfect target.
The cat at her feet stirred, sensing her tension, and let out a small, concerned meow. Briar bent down, running a soothing hand over its fur. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured to the cat, though her voice was tight with emotion. “We’ll fix this.”
Briar straightened, her heart still pounding. The last thing Colt needed was another reason to deal with Elle. If he found out what had happened here, his anger would boil over, and she couldn’t let that happen. He had enough on his plate without another confrontation. This was her fight.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Briar crouched by the ruined bed, gently gathering the torn flowers in her hands. She could still save some of them, maybe. If she worked quickly enough, there was a chance to salvage what hadn’t been too badly damaged.
As she worked, her thoughts spun, trying to figure out how to protect the garden going forward. Her magic stirred beneath the surface, gentle but insistent, a quiet hum in the back of her mind. She had held back using it up until now, afraid of the consequences. But this… this was different.
Protecting her sanctuary wasn’t an act of harm—it was an act of preservation.
Briar made up her mind. She would lay wards around the garden. Subtle ones, designed to repel those with ill intent. They wouldn’t harm anyone—just a gentle push, a nudge, to make the space unappealing to anyone with malice in their heart. It wasn’t dark magic. Wards were defensive, protective. There was no corruption in keeping something safe.
Her hands trembled slightly as she set a flower back into the soil, patting the earth around its roots. A part of her wanted to lash out—to summon the darker side of her magic and curse Elle for what she’d done. But Briar knew better. Using magic to harm was a slippery slope. It might feel justified in the moment, but it always came at a cost. That was not a path she was willing to walk.
“No,” Briar whispered to herself, firm and resolute. “No dark magic.”
She finished replanting the flowers, her movements careful and deliberate. The yellow cat purred beside her, rubbing its head against her leg as if to offer comfort.
Once the last flower was back in place, Briar sat back on her heels and wiped her brow. The damage wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought. It would take time for the garden to recover fully, but it would heal. Just like she had.
Satisfied, Briar took off her gardening gloves and dusted off her hands. She glanced toward the house, her heart aching with the need to be near Colt.
“I’m done with this nonsense,” Briar muttered under her breath. “She can do whatever the hell she wants. I’m going to spend the rest of the day with Colt.”
The thought of being wrapped in his arms again, of losing herself in his warmth and strength, was more comforting than she cared to admit. She needed him, plain and simple. And Elle’s petty games weren’t going to stop her from being where she belonged. She would go be with Colt. Because at the end of the day, there was only one place she wanted to be—and that was at his side.
By the time Briar reached the porch of the ranch house, her heart felt lighter. The tension Elle had stirred in her began to fade, and the anticipation of seeing Colt—of slipping back into the easy rhythm they shared—replaced the frustration that had simmered in her chest.
Colt was already waiting for her in the shade of the porch, leaning against one of the posts, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The sight of him sent a pleasant warmth spreading through her, and she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips.
“There’s my mate,” Colt said, his deep voice wrapping around her like a warm blanket.
Briar climbed the steps, drawn to him as if by some invisible force. When she reached him, Colt pulled her into his arms without hesitation, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She melted into him, her body relaxing in his familiar embrace.
“Come on,” Colt murmured, his lips brushing against her temple. “Lunch is ready.”
They made their way to the small table set up at the edge of the porch, where a simple spread of sandwiches and fresh fruit waited. The meal wasn’t elaborate, but Briar appreciated the care Colt had taken in preparing it. It was these little things—his attention to detail, the way he made her feel seen and cherished—that meant the most to her.
They sat together, the warm breeze stirring the air as they ate in comfortable silence. Colt handed her a glass of sweet tea, watching her with that steady, grounding gaze that never failed to make her feel safe.
It wasn’t until they were halfway through their meal that Colt broke the silence. “You don’t need to worry about Elle.” His tone was calm, but the import of his words was not lost on her—an unspoken promise that he’d taken care of things.
Briar raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in her green eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Landon escorted her back to Dallas,” Colt explained, setting his sandwich down and leaning back in his chair. “He told her if she steps foot on this ranch again, she’ll be turned over to the pack in Galveston.”
Briar frowned, her brow furrowing. “I don’t know, Colt… That doesn’t sit right with me. Forcing her into another pack feels... wrong.”
Colt’s golden gaze softened as he reached across the table, taking her hand in his. His touch was warm, steadying, and Briar found herself relaxing under the power of his presence.
“It’s not about forcing her into anything,” Colt said gently. “It’s her choice if she comes back. She knows the consequences now. If she can’t respect what we’ve built here, then she’ll have to deal with the consequences. That’s on her—not us.”
Briar bit her lip, still not entirely comfortable with the idea. But she also knew Colt was right. Elle had been given every chance to do the right thing, and she’d chosen not to. If she returned, knowing what awaited her, that would be her decision to make.
“I suppose you’re right,” Briar murmured, squeezing Colt’s hand. “I just… I hate the thought of anyone being exiled.”
Colt’s thumb stroked the back of her hand, his touch reassuring. “You’ve got a good heart, Briar. But some people won’t change, no matter how many chances you give them. You’ve already given Elle more grace than she deserved.”
Briar exhaled slowly, nodding. A comfortable silence settled between them as they finished their meal, the tension from earlier melting away. Briar’s heart felt lighter knowing that the trouble with Elle was behind them—that Colt had taken care of it, just as he’d promised.
When they finished eating, Colt leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on her with a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “You okay now?” he asked, his voice low and full of quiet concern.
Briar smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection for the man sitting across from her. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “Thanks to you.”
Colt gave her a crooked grin, the kind that made her pulse quicken. “Good.”
And in that moment, with the sun shining down on them, Briar knew she was exactly where she was meant to be—at Colt’s side, building a life together, one moment at a time. But still there was that niggling feeling that Elle wasn’t done with them yet.