Chapter 26
twenty-six
COLT
The hammer struck the glowing steel with a deafening crack. Sparks rained down over my heavy leather apron, but I didn’t blink, and I sure as hell didn’t slow down. I brought the heavy sledge down again. And again. And again.
I was trying to beat the memory out of my own skull.
The forge was sweltering, the heat thick with the smell of coal and hot iron, but it couldn’t mask the stench of my own ruined pheromones.
My scent was a disaster, scorched at the edges with an acrid bite of distress.
I was broadcasting a feral, teeth-baring need to claim, and I couldn’t dial it back.
My arms ached. Sweat poured down my chest under my soot-stained shirt, but the physical exhaustion wasn’t enough to shut my brain off. Every time the hammer hit the anvil, the sound was replaced by the wet, slapping echo of Gideon driving his hips into our Omega.
I had stood in that doorway and watched.
I gripped the wooden handle of the sledgehammer so hard my knuckles ached.
The Alpha instinct in my blood was clawing at my insides, roaring at me to go back to the barn, rip Gideon away from her, and bury my teeth right into the juncture of her neck while I impaled her on my cock this time.
I wanted to claim her so deeply it felt like I was tearing myself apart the longer I resisted.
Instead of following my instincts, I had retreated into the shadows with a cum stain on my jeans, locked myself in the forge, and grabbed the heaviest piece of metal I could find.
I brought the hammer down one more time, the blow so violent the impact vibrated all the way up my shoulder and into my jaw.
“You keep hitting it like that, you’re going to crack the damn anvil, Colt.”
I stilled. My chest heaved, my lungs burning for oxygen as I slowly lowered the hammer.
Stetson was leaning against the doorframe of the shop. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his boots crossed at the ankles. I had been making so much noise I hadn’t heard his truck pull up, let alone heard him walk across the gravel.
He didn’t look angry. He just looked unmovable. His own scent rolled into the hot shop, steady and grounding, clashing with my unstable pheromones.
I didn’t offer a greeting. I grabbed a pair of heavy iron tongs, clamped them around the glowing steel, and shoved the metal directly into the quenching barrel. The water hissed angrily, a plume of white steam shooting up toward the rafters.
“I’m working,” I rasped out.
“You’re hiding.” Stetson pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the forge.
He didn’t crowd me, stopping a few feet away, but his presence commanded the room.
There was a reason he was the pack leader among us.
He tipped his hat back, his attention locking with mine.
“And you’re burning the entire property down with your scent.
I could smell you from the main drive. What happened? ”
“Nothing.”
Stetson raised a single, thick eyebrow. “Smells like a whole lot of nothing.”
I tossed the tongs onto the workbench. They hit the wood with a loud clatter. I grabbed a rag and wiped the grease and sweat off my hands, refusing to look at him. “Drop it, Stetson.”
“I’m not dropping shit,” Stetson countered.
His voice didn’t rise, but the low, authoritative rumble in his chest rolled through me from hat to the soles of my boots—a pack leader pulling dominance.
“You’ve been fighting this for weeks. You sit on the edge of the room.
You try not to engage. And now you’re out here sweating through your shirt, smelling like you’re about to tear someone’s throat out. Talk to me.”
I threw the dirty rag onto the bench and finally turned to face him.
Stetson was the only man on this ranch who understood the exact cost of holding back, and all the reasons why.
Ransom and River were energy and instinct.
Gideon was strategic. Boone was a fucking mountain of steadiness.
But Stetson and I were the walls, hardened by life and ruled by our need to make sure the foundation of our pack didn’t crack another damn inch.
“I saw them,” I admitted, the words tearing out of my throat before I’d thought better of sharing. “In the barn office.”
Stetson didn’t flinch. He didn’t ask for details. He just gave a slow, understanding nod. “Gideon.”
“Yeah.” I braced my hands flat on the edge of the workbench, dropping my head between my shoulders.
“I walked right past the door. Saw them. And I didn’t walk away.
I stood there and watched my brother take my Omega, and lost my fucking mind over it.
” I swallowed hard, the bitter taste of ash coating the back of my tongue.
“I’m losing my grip, Stetson. If I touch her, I won’t be gentle.
I won’t be accommodating. The Alpha in me wants to lock her in a room, knot her until she can’t walk, and you and I both know that’s a bad idea for a number of reasons.
First and foremost, I decided a long time ago that this”—I motioned between us, then circled my finger through the air to encompass the rest of our pack—”is already enough liability.
I won’t—” I swallowed, voice going reedy.
“I won’t survive another loss. It’s easier not to let yourself fall. ”
The confession hung in the sweltering air. I had just laid bare the two things I spent my entire life keeping chained up so this family could function—the ugly possessiveness of my Alpha, and the crippling terror of being gutted a second time.
Stetson was quiet. We had all lost Easton, but Stetson was the only one who processed grief the exact same way I did. He understood the brutal, agonizing math of survival—the belief that if you simply refused to let yourself fall, you could never be destroyed again.
Then, he took two steps forward and clapped a heavy hand squarely onto my shoulder. His grip was a vise.
“I spent the last month making excuses because I was terrified of wrecking this family,” Stetson said quietly.
“I convinced myself that stepping back was the honorable thing to do. That keeping my hands off her protected everyone from my baggage.” His fingers dug into my muscle, making sure I was paying attention.
“I was wrong. All I did was leave her waiting. I see you doing the exact same thing. You think walling yourself off keeps you safe, but you’re already tearing yourself apart. ”
I turned my head, meeting his eyes. “I’m not built for this, Stet. If I let her in and she leaves—”
“It’s scary shit. We’re Alphas. We’re built needing to control everything, but I think that’s what makes Omegas so damn special.
They force us to drop the reins. Falling for her means opening yourself up to the exact kind of loss that broke us the first time, but I’ll take that risk.
I’d rather bleed out actually living than keep walking around like a ghost in my own life,” Stetson admitted, then smirked smugly as he added, “And as for your other concern, trust me when I say she isn’t a fragile little thing that needs you to handle her with kid gloves.
She took my knot. She took Ransom’s. She took whatever Gideon just gave her in that office, and she’s still standing. ”
Stetson dropped his hand from my shoulder. He took a step back, giving me my space again.
“You’re starving yourself while the rest of us are eating,” the Pack Leader told me, dropping all the brotherly sympathy to deliver the cold, hard truth.
“And your control is slipping because of it. Stop predicting the end of the world and take a chance. I promise you’ll regret it more if you don’t. ”
He didn’t wait for a response. He turned on his heel and walked out of the forge, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The fire in the furnace had burned down to glowing red embers by the time I’d made a decision. The tension strangling me had finally eased, replaced by something much heavier. Something permanent.
Stetson was right.
I reached down, grabbed the heavy leather apron, and pulled it over my head. I threw it onto the anvil. I was done hiding in the dark.