Page 13 of Forged Alliances
Sierra let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s a cold-cock you need time to rebound from,” she said, understanding in the brief nod she gave him. To his relief, she didn’t paw at him or try to coddle—anything else would’ve made his skin crawl.
He lifted his pint. “To alcohol. Nature’s best therapy,” he said, a grin curling his lips. She raised her own bottle in response, those serious eyes glittering as she took another sip. He drank the smooth liquid down, despite the malty, sour taste of it. He let it banish the self-loathing that had taken root in him the second he’d lost control of his pack, the voice in his head sounding too reminiscent of dear old Dad.
Footsteps pounded behind them, but the conversation in the bar didn’t halt in the slightest, so Dax swung around to face the lawyer he’d left studying documents earlier.
Jeremiah approached with the manila folder. Those glasses still looked off on the guy wearing a dark-blue work shirt and jeans with more holes than a sieve. He slammed the folder onto the bar and let out a grunt in the process. The man had been a veritable bucket of sunshine so far, all growls and temper—not as if Dax expected more from a wolf.
“So after scanning over this beastly thing, I’ve got a mixed bag of news,” Jeremiah said with a sigh. In seconds, Seamus slid a gin and tonic in front of the man. They clasped hands, a grin spreading on both of their faces. Dax’s stomach wrenched in an ugly way at the reminder of what he used to have—an entire pack of allies he’d grown up with, a family who even when they fought stayed together. Until his dad had passed, dragging the pack into chaos.
“Hit me with the worst of it,” Dax said, taking another sip from his glass. He had the tolerance of a freight train so he’d have to knock back a keg of these before the effects started hitting him, but as far as distractions went, drinking provided enough of one. Even though Sierra had grown quiet, she had a solid presence that didn’t need announcing, and while everyone else ran their mouths, she watched and observed. No wonder the woman ran circles around most packs in this region.
“Your father’s wishes mean jack shit in both human and shifter terms. The problem with your pack interfering has no backing. Why they chose to interfere is all on them.” Jeremiah squeezed the lime into his gin and tonic before taking a sip.
Dax let out a sigh, tugging the brim of his baseball cap. “I think I might have the answer on that one.”
Jeremiah’s brow quirked before he continued. “Here’s the big problem. Since the pack interfered in the alpha fight and your lot can’t seem to come to a resolution, that invites the Tribe to step in, and they don’t look too kindly to packs who can’t manage themselves. Once they arrive, the rights to your land and pack are in flux. Anyone in the region can try to stake their claim.”
“So you’re saying my territory will be a free-for-all?” Dax asked, bringing a hand to his temple.
“What if he petitions the Tribe for arbitration, given the first transgression of his pack?” Sierra interrupted, her gaze sharp as a blade. Jeremiah rubbed the stubble on his chin, letting out a sigh. When they’d first met, Dax would’ve pegged him for a meathead, but after witnessing the man navigate his way through those legal documents and a more serious, less aggressive side, Dax caught the intelligence in his eyes.
“If he’s the one petitioning against his brother, he may be able to stall the free-for-all on the land and settle it in a one-on-one fight. They’d need to go through with the fight for dominance though, and if the Tribe deemed neither a suitable alpha by the end, then the land would revert to whatever shifters could stake the strongest claim,” Jeremiah said between sips from his drink. He glanced to Dax. “Sure you want to put your land and pack out there for grabs? We could scoop it up in a heartbeat.”
“But we wouldn’t,” Sierra butted in, right as Dax’s skin began to prickle. “Because we made an arrangement, and we’ll be true to our word.”
He flashed her a smile, trying to ignore the way his gratitude for her traveled deeper to his gut, the feeling more intense than camaraderie for a packmate. “Then that settles it. We’re bringing the big, bad Tribe tromping down to our neck of the woods.”
“Joy.” Jeremiah wrinkled his nose as he slammed back the rest of his gin and tonic. “Let me know when you need more counsel.” He met Dax’s gaze. “Sounds like you got the raw deal on this one, my man. Sorry to hear.”
Dax’s brows lifted, understanding not something he’d expected from a man who’d growled at him on first meeting. “Hey, Pops did me the service of weeding out the disloyal members. Maybe we can start fresh and create a better rep for ourselves than an aggressive group of assholes.”
“That’s one way of testing loyalty,” Jeremiah said, sliding his empty glass over to Seamus. He pushed the manila folder over to Dax as he rose from his seat. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got some extra energy to blow off, and Mira’s been giving me the eye.”
Sierra snorted by his side. “Dream on, brother. She’s been giving you the eye because you’re a pain in her ass, not because she wants to sleep with you.”
He winked as he sauntered over to one of the pool tables, tossing his hand in the air. “We’ll see, boss.”
Which left the two of them together again, sans buffer. As Jeremiah exited stage left, all the familiar tension they’d grappled with earlier returned. Despite the way he’d been able to avoid the conversation before, he used his revelation card up, and with the way Sierra regarded him, her lips pursed and her dark eyes burning with an unrepentant seriousness, he couldn’t avoid the crash course of this conversation.
“So I shouldn’t have run out back there,” Sierra said, grabbing the topic by the balls and throwing it right into the open. Not like he expected anything less from their brief interactions. “And don’t bother playing coy, because I know you felt it too.”
Dax let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. A million evasions danced through his head, but the second he tried, she’d slice right through them. Sierra took no-nonsense to a new degree. “Look,” he started. “I barely know you.”
To his surprise, her shoulders relaxed at his statement. He’d half-expected some fierce argument, some intense fight from her, but they’d both had this surprise strangle them in the middle of what had been a no-strings fling.
She opened her mouth, ready to speak, when the door flew open with a loud smack, one drawing every eye in the room.
Ally raced into the tavern, eyes wide and glowing amber, her claws out. “Dax, they’re attacking.”