Page 2 of Forged Alliances
“Pint’s over. Since you came rolling up to what’s obviously one of our bars, I’m assuming you’re ready to discuss business now,” Sierra said, leaning forward to place her forearms on the bar. Her braid shifted down her back with the way she thrust her chin forward. “Right now, you’re considered guests in our territory. However, if you’re here to try and stake a claim, you’ll find yourself out on your ass before you can blink.”
A couple of growls reverberated around her, including from Finn, who hunched forward, his eyes glowing amber.
“I’d like to see you try.” Dax’s lips curled into a smile, smug enough to make her say to hell with the consequences and tear into him. He shifted on the seat, near dwarfing it with a lethal, coiled body that spelled dangerous. Despite his calm, the way his blue eyes flashed promised trouble. She’d heard rumors in the breeze of unrest in the Silver Springs region, of the old alpha passing. If these cats encroached on her territory, they must’ve arrived for a damn good reason, since he didn’t seem the sort to go running from a challenge.
Sierra wasn’t alpha just because she’d wiped the floor with the big guys in the pack—hell, most of the strong ones could go toe-to-toe with her. She’d become alpha because she paid attention, she listened, and most importantly, she understood the big picture.
Her brow lifted as she soaked Dax in. Proud shifter like him wouldn’t come slinking in asking for help. No, he’d bluster on in and start a ruckus, distract, maybe carve out a niche for himself and his cats. Bringing her suspicions up in front of his pack wouldn’t help either, because he had to keep a bold front. She had to figure out a way to get him alone, so they could hash this out alpha-to-alpha.
“Right, keep talking big while you’ve got your posse at your back,” Sierra challenged, pushing him.
He snorted into his pint. “Says the woman with an entire bar full of wolves to hide behind.”
“Fine,” Sierra responded, hiding her amusement at how fast she’d maneuvered him. “Then let’s have this conversation somewhere private. That is, if you aren’t too scared.” She threw the barb in for good measure but didn’t have to fake the heat of challenge in her voice.
Dax’s grin widened, revealing teeth as he leaned against the bar. “Darling, if you wanted me somewhere private, all you had to do was ask,” he drawled. The languid way he carried himself oozed sensuality and the confidence of a guy who got his way often. Just the sort she’d run roughshod over. Sierra didn’t blink, crossing her arms.
Finn tapped her shoulder. “Boss, you don’t have to give him the time of day, let alone engage in any one-on-one negotiations. Cats aren’t trustworthy.”
“My beta’s bringing up some pretty good points,” she said to Dax in return, getting up from her barstool. “Think you can survive a talk with me without resorting to petty tricks?”
The beanpole, Kyle, jumped in. “And why should we trust you to not launch an ambush once you get him alone?”
Sierra’s gaze flashed, her claws pricking out. “Because Red Rocks keep their word.” Her voice turned molten and harsh despite the complete control she’d regained. Intimidation against a bitty cat like him came as natural as running water. “Because we don’t go intruding on other folks’ territories, making demands. We learned a thing or two about honor and loyalty along the way and about defending our home with our lives.”
“I believe you,” Dax replied. His eyes danced with amusement, blue like the shifting seas. He slid his emptied pint glass across the slick surface of the bar and hopped off his seat. “So why waste any more time?” With his powerful stride, he was halfway across the room in seconds before he turned around to glance at her.
Sierra clenched her jaw, irritated. Even though she’d been able to unseat him for a couple of seconds, every interaction with him was a push-pull for power, one seeping beneath her skin like an itch she couldn’t scratch. She cast a glance to Finn. “Treat them like guests while they’re here,” she murmured. “However, if they get aggressive, don’t hesitate to slit their throats.”
“Please, my pack is nothing but well behaved,” Dax called across the room. “Just tell your puppies to play nice.”
Sierra shot Finn one last glance before striding across the room to catch up with Dax. She didn’t trust the bastard for a heartbeat. Even though she could hold her own in a fight, the mischief blazing in his eyes and the slick calm he oozed set her nerves on edge. Whatever reason he had for bringing his pack into her territory, one fact remained undeniably true: the man was pure trouble.