Page 3 of Alpha’s Vow (Copper Canyon Shifters #3)
CHAPTER 3
brYCE
T he roar of the crowd was a familiar sound, a deafening pulse that vibrated through Bryce Savage’s chest as he tightened his grip on the bronc’s rein. The animal beneath him was a powerhouse of muscle and fury, its every twitch promising a battle of strength and will. Bryce grinned, nodding to the men who would release 1400 pounds of fury. The bronc was as determined to buck him off as Bryce was to stick for the entire eight seconds and score well.
The announcer’s voice boomed through the arena. “Next up, Bryce Savage, one of the best riders to ever throw his leg over an ornery bronc! Hold on to your hats, folks—this man does not disappoint!”
The gate swung open, and the bronc exploded into the arena, its hooves pounding the dirt with bone-jarring force. Bryce’s body moved with practiced ease, his hand gripping the rein while his free arm balanced him like a pendulum. Every buck, every twist of the bronc’s powerful frame, was met with precision.
“Show me what you got,” Bryce muttered through clenched teeth, the words lost in the chaos.
The crowd’s cheers rose to a crescendo as the seconds ticked by. Eight seconds. That was all it took to separate champions from pretenders. Bryce counted each heartbeat, his body attuned to the rhythm of the bronc’s movements. When the buzzer sounded, he let go, dismounting with the same fluid grace that had earned him the reputation as one of the best.
The moment his boots hit the dirt, he threw his hat in the air, a signature move that never failed to rile up the crowd. The bronc galloped off, and Bryce jogged to the fence, climbing up and waving at the fans as the announcer’s voice returned.
“Folks, give it up for Bryce! That ride puts him solidly in first place!”
The applause was deafening, a tidal wave of energy that should have filled him with satisfaction. But as Bryce stood there, grinning and waving, he felt the faint, familiar ache of restlessness.
“Another win,” he muttered to himself, his smile faltering for the briefest of moments. “Another damn buckle.”
The drive back to Copper Canyon Ranch was a blur of open roads and rolling hills, the kind of scenery that had always felt like home. Bryce leaned back in the driver’s seat, his eyes scanning the horizon. His truck’s radio crackled with country music, but he barely heard it, his mind drifting.
The ranch came into view just as the sun dipped below the mountains, casting everything in shades of red, gold, and green. The sight was always a comfort—the lush pastures, the barns, the sprawling main house—but tonight, it felt like a reminder of something he couldn’t quite name.
He parked near the stables and stepped out, the cool evening air brushing against his face. Inside, Colt and Landon were gathered near the tack room, their voices carrying on the breeze. Bryce grinned, his mood lifting at the sight of his brothers.
“Well, if it isn’t the champion himself,” Colt called out, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. As the oldest of the Savage brothers, Colt carried an air of authority that was hard to miss, but his teasing grin softened the impression.
“You’re looking at greatness,” Bryce replied, swaggering over. “First place again. Starting to feel like these rodeos are rigged.”
“Rigged in your favor, maybe,” Landon shot back, his tone as dry as the Texas heat. He stood beside Colt, a saddle in one hand and a grin on his face. “Must be nice to have the judges eating out of your hand.”
Bryce rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault I make it look easy. Some of us are just born to win.”
Colt chuckled, shaking his head. “If your head gets any bigger, we’ll need to build another barn to fit it.”
Bryce joined their laughter, the banter easing some of the tension that had been gnawing at him since the competition. Being back at the ranch, surrounded by his brothers, was grounding in a way few things were.
“You planning to add another buckle to that collection of yours?” Landon asked, setting the saddle down on a nearby rack. “You’ve already got more than enough to wallpaper a room.”
Bryce leaned against the wall, his grin fading slightly. “Maybe. Haven’t decided yet.”
Landon raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you. You’re usually itching to sign up for the next rodeo.”
Colt’s gaze sharpened, his older brother instincts kicking in. “What’s eating at you, Bryce?”
Bryce hesitated, running a hand through his dark hair. The question lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “Just…something feels off.”
Colt exchanged a glance with Landon before turning back to Bryce. “Off how?”
Bryce shrugged, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Hell if I know. It’s like… I’ve got everything I ever wanted. The wins, the ranch, the respect. But there’s this...” He paused, searching for the right words. “—void. Like something’s missing.”
Landon frowned. “Maybe you’re just burned out. You’ve been pushing yourself pretty hard.”
Bryce shook his head. “It’s not that. I love the rodeo, the thrill of it. But lately, it doesn’t feel like enough.”
For a moment, the only sound was the distant lowing of cattle and the rustle of wind through the trees. Colt finally broke the silence, his tone measured. “Sometimes, you can have everything you thought you wanted and still feel empty. Doesn’t mean you’re broken. Just means there’s something else out there waiting for you.”
Bryce snorted, though there was no malice in it. “Since when did you get so wise, old man?”
Colt grinned. “Since I found Briar. You’d be amazed what love does for a man.”
“Love,” Bryce repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Is this an intervention? Are you two trying to set me up with someone?”
Landon laughed, shaking his head. “God, no. Can you imagine Bryce in a committed relationship? Poor girl wouldn’t know what hit her.”
Bryce rolled his eyes but couldn’t help chuckling. “Glad to see my brothers have so much faith in me.”
The laughter faded, and Bryce pushed off the wall, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. The restlessness was still there, a low drone that refused to be ignored. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he had a feeling it wasn’t here—not yet.
“I’m heading out for a ride,” he said, grabbing a bridle from the rack. “Need to clear my head.”
Colt and Landon watched him go, their expressions unreadable. Bryce didn’t look back as he saddled his horse. The ranch faded behind him as he rode into the open expanse, the stars beginning to dot the darkening sky.
The ride was quiet, the rhythmic clop of hooves a soothing counterpoint to the storm inside him. Bryce let his horse pick the path, his mind wandering as the landscape unfolded around him.
There was something out there, something he couldn’t name but could feel as surely as the cool evening air on his skin. A part of him wanted to chase it, to leave everything behind and see where the road took him. But another part—the part bound to this land, to his family—kept him tethered.
As he crested a hill, the wind picked up, carrying with it a faint, tantalizing scent that made his wolf stir. Bryce straightened in the saddle, his senses sharpening as he scanned the horizon.
The scent was elusive, a blend of wildness and something uniquely feminine. It tugged at him, lighting a fire in his chest he hadn’t felt in years.
“What the hell…” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind.
The void inside him flared, not with emptiness but with something new—something electric. Bryce didn’t know what it meant, but he knew one thing for certain.
His life was about to change.
The early morning air was sharp and cold, the kind that sank deep into your lungs and reminded you that winter wasn’t ready to loosen its grip. Bryce stood in the middle of the Copper Canyon Ranch’s main corral, the reins of a restless stallion in his hands. The horse shifted under his touch, powerful and eager, its hooves pawing at the dirt.
“Settle down, Apollo,” Bryce murmured, his voice calm but firm. The stallion stilled slightly, its eyes fixed on him. Bryce patted its neck, his thoughts already drifting ahead to Las Vegas.
The National Finals were only a few weeks away, and the familiar fire of competition burned in his gut. He was determined to dominate, to remind everyone why his name was synonymous with excellence in bronc riding. But it was more than pride—it was a test of himself. Every ride, every win, was a chance to prove that he still had what it took.
A low whistle broke through his thoughts, and Bryce turned to see his brother Landon leaning on the fence, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Talking to the horses again, huh? You’re not going to start naming them after your exes, are you?” Landon teased.
Bryce snorted, tossing the reins over the saddle horn. “Apollo’s too smart to be named after any of them.”
Landon laughed, his breath fogging in the cold air as he climbed over the fence and joined Bryce in the corral. “Ouch! Seriously, though. You ready for Vegas? That’s a big stage, even for someone who thrives on the spotlight.”
“Born ready,” Bryce replied, the confidence in his tone unwavering. But as he adjusted the saddle, a flicker of something else crossed his face—restlessness. He shoved the thought aside and focused on tightening the cinch.
“You know,” Landon continued, his voice more thoughtful, “Colt’s been talking about expanding the ranch. Adding a division for rodeo stock—horses, maybe bulls. Seems like a smart move, especially with how much attention you’re bringing to the name.”
Bryce tilted his head, considering the idea. “Makes sense. The Savage brand’s got clout. People would pay top dollar for stock with our name on it.”
Landon nodded. “Exactly. Plus, it gives us a reason to grow. New blood, new challenges. What do you think?”
Bryce shrugged, adjusting the brim of his hat. “Sounds like a solid plan. But if you’re asking me to spend my days wrangling bulls instead of riding broncs, I’ll pass.”
Landon rolled his eyes. “I’m not asking you to give up your throne, Your Majesty. Just saying it’s worth thinking about.”
Before Bryce could reply, Colt’s voice carried across the yard. “You two planning on working today, or just standing around talking about it?”
The eldest Savage brother strode toward them, his authoritative presence impossible to ignore. Despite the teasing edge in his tone, there was a seriousness in his gaze that made both Bryce and Landon straighten instinctively.
“Morning, Colt,” Bryce said, meeting his brother’s eye. “Landon’s trying to recruit me for your little expansion project.”
Colt raised an eyebrow. “Little? We’re talking about turning this ranch into one of the biggest names in rodeo stock. Hardly little.”
Bryce grinned, crossing his arms. “Big talk, but can you keep up with it? You’re not getting any younger.”
Colt’s laugh was deep and genuine. “Keep underestimating me, little brother. It’ll make it that much sweeter when I prove you wrong.”
The banter came easily, but even as they talked, Bryce’s thoughts drifted. His brothers were grounded, focused on the ranch and its future. But for Bryce, the idea of settling into a predictable rhythm felt suffocating. He craved the thrill of the unknown, the kind of excitement that came with risk and danger. It was why he thrived in the rodeo, why he pushed himself harder with every ride.
As the conversation shifted back to ranch logistics, Bryce found himself staring out at the horizon. The land stretched endlessly, amber fields fading into the distant mountains. It was beautiful, sure, but it felt like a cage.
Landon’s voice cut through his reverie. “You good, Bryce? You’ve been zoning out a lot lately.”
Bryce blinked, his focus snapping back to his brothers. “Yeah, just thinking about Vegas. Big crowd, big stakes. Gotta make sure I’m ready.”
Colt’s expression softened slightly, his older-brother instincts kicking in. “You’ve got this, Bryce. You’ve been working hard, and it shows. But don’t burn yourself out chasing perfection.”
Bryce nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure he believed it. Perfection wasn’t the problem—it was the nagging sense that no matter how much he won, something was missing.
That evening, Bryce saddled his horse and rode out into the open fields. The setting sun bathed the land in hues of orange and red, the kind of light that made everything feel sharper, more alive. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of earth and pine, and with it came a stirring deep in his chest.
It wasn’t the first time he’d felt it, this pull that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. His wolf instincts were on edge, restless in a way that had nothing to do with the rodeo or the ranch. It was as if the world itself was shifting beneath his feet, and he was powerless to stop it.
He closed his eyes, remembering the reoccurring dream that seemed to be coming more often.
Bryce stood at the edge of the paddock, the early morning light painting the world in soft hues of gold. He watched a young colt tentatively step toward its mother, its leg wrapped in fresh bandages Bryce had carefully applied at dawn. There was a quiet satisfaction in moments like this, a reminder that even emotional wounds could heal with enough patience and care.
The crisp air carried the familiar scents of the ranch—hay, damp earth, and the faint musk of the pack's territory beyond the rolling hills. Bryce ran a hand through his dark hair, his wolf stirring faintly beneath his skin. Something felt different today, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.
A soft growl caught his attention, and he turned toward the barn. A truck rattled up the gravel driveway, its tires scattering stones with an urgency that didn’t belong in the ranch’s usual rhythm. Bryce narrowed his eyes as the vehicle came to a stop, the engine cutting out abruptly.
The door opened, and she stepped out.
She looked like a shadow brought to life, her blonde hair a tangled veil that couldn’t hide the bruises along her cheekbone or the guarded look in her eyes. The oversized flannel she wore swallowed her small frame, as though she were trying to disappear within it. But even from a distance, Bryce could feel the faint hum of something beneath the surface—something wild, restrained, and desperately afraid. Something that called to that part of him that was primal and feral. The wolf within. He could feel the buzzing in his head, and he was completely disoriented, even though he had grown up on this ranch and had stood in this same spot more times than he could count.
Her eyes met his, and Bryce felt it like a punch to the chest. Pain. Not his own, but hers, radiating off her in waves he couldn’t ignore.
The ranch foreman stepped out of the barn and waved her over, breaking the spell. Bryce watched as the woman—Sable, the foreman had called her—approached, her steps hesitant yet purposeful. Her hands gripped a battered duffel bag so tightly, her knuckles turned white.
Bryce forced himself to look away, but his wolf bristled, restless. It wasn’t just her pain he’d sensed. There was something else, something deeper, like a spark buried in the ash of a long-doused fire.
The call of an owl broke the spell. “Get it together,” he muttered, urging his horse forward, but the feeling persisted, a low thrum in his veins that refused to be ignored.
He stopped at the edge of a ridge, the landscape stretching out before him in an endless sea of shadows and light. Bryce dismounted, his boots crunching against the dry grass as he walked to the edge. He inhaled deeply, his sharp senses drinking in the details of the night—the rustle of leaves, the distant howl of a coyote, the faint scent of rain on the wind.
The void inside him flared again, sharper this time. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. How could he feel so untethered when everything in his life was exactly as it should be? He had the wins, the respect, the family—what else was there?
And yet, deep down, he knew the answer. Something was coming. He didn’t know what or when, but his wolf sensed it, and Bryce had learned to trust his instincts.
The stars began to dot the sky, their faint glow a reminder of how vast the world was. Bryce tilted his head back, letting the quiet settle over him. For a moment, he allowed himself to acknowledge the truth.
His life was on the brink of change. He could feel it, like a storm building on the horizon. It wasn’t a question of if—it was a question of when.
Bryce mounted his horse, his jaw set with determination. Whatever was coming, he would face it head-on. He didn’t know how to do anything else.