Page 25 of Forged Alliances
Chapter Twelve
Dax had woken up at the asscrack of dawn, and while he’d only slugged one cup of coffee down, his nerves jittered as if he’d drunk the whole pot. He rolled to the cabin where Ally and the others had taken refuge in Red Rock territory, the one where he’d met Sierra for that initial meeting. Even though the attack had happened a mere day and a half ago, an age had passed in his mind. Sweat pricked on his brow as he exited the car, stepping into the swampy humidity that had already descended today.
His nerves kicked into high gear when he approached the front door, but his mind kept drifting to Sierra. As of late, she’d pounded through his head to the point of obsession. Each piece of her puzzle he uncovered had him craving more of the resilient woman with a shattered past who’d never let it conquer her. Alone in his bed last night, he’d tossed and turned, the need consuming him to the point that even roping off a couple of times hadn’t taken the edge off.
Mating bond or no, the woman was the first he’d encountered who sustained his interest, who he could imagine something lasting with. Normally self-loathing would set in when they got too close, his father’s reminder, on replay, that he’d never be good enough. Except Sierra managed to push right through with an unparalleled determination. She grounded him and strengthened him in a way no other before had.
Sucking in a breath, he entered the cabin.
“Hey, boss,” Kyle called, leaning against the wall. “Heard you’re going to be taking on challengers from all over.”
“Testing my prowess against my brother isn’t enough,” Dax said, cracking a smile. “They want to make sure the Silver Springs alpha is best in the region.” He didn’t bother mentioning what would happen if either he or his brother failed, even though the weight of that possibility had kept him up at night. One misstep in these matches and the entire Silver Springs pack would get torn from their homes. These people he’d known his entire life could be separated.
Voices murmured throughout the place, but only six of his pack lingered in the cabin at the moment. Lana stayed with Rick, Marcy, and the kids in a rental cabin while Rick healed and Lana had space to grieve for Greg. He’d already had the talk with her. They were waiting to hold the funeral until after the fights, once the future of their pack was decided. The pit in his stomach stole his attention for a moment, but he had to put on a strong front. Dax nodded at the crew, making his way to the bedroom, where Ally lay bed-bound.
“That you, Williams?” she shouted. He grinned, walking through the open door.
“Ally-cat, how’re you healing up?” Dax leaned against the doorframe of the dimly lit room. Even with the sheets covering her, the wounded leg was out, wrapped, and elevated.
The blonde leaned forward, trying to disguise her wince with the movement. Her expressive face had grown pale from pain while she healed. The injury she’d sustained from the explosion hadn’t been minor, and that colloidal silver had made healing a bitch, as he’d suspected.
“Top shape. Is it time to rip Drew a new one yet?” Her voice was hoarse with venom. Even though she’d chosen Dax’s side, the complicated history she had with his brother wasn’t a secret. They’d been on and off again for a long time until Ally had enough of being treated like trash. That he’d been behind the bomb to leave her with physical scars was a cruel coincidence.
“Unfortunately I’ve got to combat every asshole in the area who wants to claim leadership first. The Tribe came rolling in and throwing down proclamations.” Dax crossed his arms over his chest.
Ally’s mouth quirked in a smile, the look giving her more of her former edge. “Lucky you. You’ll mop the floor with them.”
Pride burned in his chest at the faith his pack had in him, enough that they’d separate from the rest of their kin to follow. If he had any reason to fight, these people, his real family, were enough.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tugged it out to glance at the screen. Unknown number. He lifted it, hitting the button to answer.
“Dax Williams, your first challenger has stepped to the plate,” Navi’s voice barked over the speaker. Ally crooked a brow, able to hear from across the room.
“Any word on my brother?” Dax asked. The line fell silent for a moment.
“Look.” Navi grew quieter. “The pipe bombs trace back to the reason we were in the region. While a couple of the injured placed Drew’s pack on the scene, the organization we’re hunting tends to draw randoms into the fold. No one could ID Drew, so he’s still allowed to participate. We can’t go on hearsay from a biased party.”
Dax’s chin jutted forward as he let out a breath of disappointment. “Understood.” If the Tribe wouldn’t lock away his brother for those crimes, then Dax would make sure Drew paid on the battlefield. “Who am I fighting today?”
“Dorlan Tully of the Underwood bear pack. The fight begins at noon at the Silver Springs testing ground. If you’re late, you forfeit the match.” At that, a click sounded as she hung up.
“Wish me luck,” he said, pushing off the doorframe. “We’ll be drinking tonight to celebrate my victory.” Dax winked and gave a salute to acknowledge the rest of his pack as he walked through the cabin.
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Kyle shouted from the other room. “We want to see the bear pound your ass.”
Dax shook his head, unable to hide the grin on his face as he lifted his middle finger in the air. “Laugh it up, assholes. See you at the match.” He hopped out the door, his heart pounding in anticipation of the oncoming fight. The lion in him begged to launch into battle for his people, his territorial instinct strong, but the human side of him churned with unease.
One mistake, one loss, and his pack would be shattered for good—or worse, in the hands of his asshole brother.
* * * *
For the first time since the shakeup, Dax drove into the heart of his old territory without fear of retribution from his brother and the traitors. With the matches occurring, they’d be on their best behavior. Meanwhile, the Tribe sniffed around whatever secret business they’d gotten involved. He braced his forearm against the open window of his car, the breezes rushing in to tangle his hair and paste his sweat to his skin. The urge to fight pounded a marching beat in his chest, one that made him feel knife-edge alive.
With all the worries over Drew’s next move and the mating bond, focusing on winning one match dosed him with relief. The familiar trees of his forest flickered by, those knotty limbs half-leaning into the road and swaying as his truck raced along. The sun winked off the windshield as he adjusted his sunglasses. Despite the tension he and Sierra had left dangling between them, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d show to support him today.
The dirt road appeared before Dax was ready, and he made an abrupt right, his truck rumbling over the uneven path. He’d been to these training grounds a thousand times before, but the last time remained raw and battered—when he’d fought his brother for alpha and the elders he’d grown up respecting had driven him from his home.
He bounced in the seat as his truck ripped down the road, tires crunching branches or kicking around loose stone. Birds chirped while foxes and deer rustled through the surrounding brush. Their sounds melded with the brisk scent of pine and rich loam of fertile earth that tickled his nose. If Dorlan Tully wanted to try to take a bite out of him, bring it. This was his territory—his home—and he refused to give up his lands.