Page 39 of Forged Alliances
Chapter Eighteen
Dax stretched out on his couch, wrapping his arm around Sierra, who leaned against him. As far as prep for the fight tomorrow could go, this was perfect. A flush decorated her cheeks, and the satisfied glow in her eyes made him brim with pride. He breathed in the scent of sweat and spice, uniquely her. His lion purred at ease, even though he’d welcomed a wolf to his bed. The way they’d come together left both man and animal feeling more complete than he had in his life.
Never in a thousand years had he believed he’d find someone like Sierra Kanoska. She shifted against him, her thick, silken hair pulled back into a bun, several strands glued to her forehead. He ran his fingertips along the raised skin of the scars on her thighs, the even slice of claws he recognized since he bore his fair share. She glanced at him, a glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes that made his heart squeeze tightly. He didn’t need to ask to know these had to do with the brother she’d left behind, but her resilience and strength despite her trials made Dax respect her even more.
He’d spent his life being the discarded son, never measuring up by any standard, so he’d fucked around until for once in his life he’d truly wanted something—his position as alpha. And when even that chance had been stolen from him, he met Sierra, the woman and wolf who strengthened him during this, who took a chance when no other alpha would.
He leaned down to plant a kiss on her hair, eliciting a nose wrinkle from her even though she couldn’t quite hide the hint of a smile clinging to her lips. His heart thundered with the realization this woman was his mate—that for once in his life he’d found a relationship he didn’t want to run from.
In fact, ever since Drew stole the position Dax had fought for and splintered the pack, Dax found himself seeking out responsibility in a way he never had before. Tomorrow he’d face his brother and claim his rightful place, but the hint of fear at being tied down no longer surged through his veins. No, with his mate by his side, he wanted to lead the Silver Springs pack into a new future—he wanted to stay.
His stomach rumbled, and he glanced to the door, willing the two pepperoni pizzas they’d ordered to arrive more quickly. With the way shifters ate, each of them could tackle a full pizza in a heartbeat and go back for more.
A buzzing sound came from Sierra’s canvas bag, and she leaned down to swipe her phone out. Her brows furrowed as she stared at the screen and answered the call.
“What’s up, Raven?” she asked as Dax trailed his fingers down her spine. She shot him a “not now” look, which made him want to antagonize her further. He pressed against her, growing hard at the feel of her velvet skin against his and the heat radiating off her lithe body.
Sierra froze, white-knuckling her phone. “I’ll be over.” He didn’t miss the razor edge to her tone or the way her claws pricked out past her nails. The mating bond broadcasted her emotion loud and clear: stark horror that had him worried. The stony look in her eyes he’d seen before, the cold, calculating side of the alpha wolf that emerged in a true emergency.
“What happened?” he asked, already off the couch and slipping clothes on from his laundry bin. Sierra snagged her shorts and tugged her tee over her head in record time. Even as he buttoned his jeans, she’d slung the canvas bag over her shoulder and made a beeline for the door. He stumbled into his sneakers as he followed her, his keys jangling in his hand.
The sun had already set, since they’d spent the entire afternoon fucking across every surface in his house, yet even with the darkened skies, moisture still hung heavy in the air. He sucked in a mouthful as he headed straight for his truck. The urgency in the line between Sierra’s brows and the way her hands kept clenching and unclenching delivered a hefty dose of fear. His ignition sparked to life, and the whitish-blue hue of his headlights sliced through the shadows.
The passenger door slammed shut as Sierra joined him. Her eyes gleamed with worry when their gazes met.
“Drew’s attacking Beaver Tavern.”
Dax didn’t hesitate, peeling out of his driveway at top speed. Rage streaked through his veins like wildfire. The memory of how Drew’s attack on his compound had injured the families of his pack and even severed some still bled raw for him. He should’ve known. He should’ve figured his brother would pull some cowardly trick rather than meeting him on the battlefield tomorrow. As if he’d go running after Drew, threatened the lives of his mate’s pack.
He clutched his steering wheel with a death grip, trying with all his might not to rip the thing from the rig. “We’ll make him pay.” Dax’s voice came out in a low growl, the shared fear and rage in this car making the air grow thicker than the syrupy summer humidity. Sierra swallowed rather than responding, the woman collecting herself and trying to keep her impulses under control even though her eyes glowed amber.
Once the truck hit the smooth asphalt of the highway, Dax jammed on the gas pedal, the engine revving to life. The woods he’d grown up in flashed by as he soared across the highway toward their destination. Dax couldn’t help the pang of regret piercing him.
Back in the days when he used to run through those woods with his brother, he never would’ve believed they’d come to this. That the fight for leadership after their dad’s death would get this drawn out and dirty. Even if they only shared a mother, they had been brothers in every other sense of the word throughout the years. Now he dealt with an entirely different person.
“I’m so sorry.” The words slipped out from him, the guilt rising in his throat like gorge. “If I hadn’t come to you for help, your pack wouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all of this.”
Sierra blazed with calm fury despite her initial reaction, iron control an innate part of her when she assumed command. “Do you think us so weak we’d shrink from a challenge?” she asked, brimming with confidence. “We chose to help you, and my pack stands by their choices. You didn’t bring this hell on us, your brother did, so don’t waste your time on regret.”
Dax nodded, humbled by the unerring focus of his mate. If he could be a fraction of the alpha she was, he’d consider himself a success. Even in the face of her home being threatened and one of her pack’s gathering places under siege, she managed to pull herself together to lead. His heart brimmed with pride. Out of anyone, she’d chosen him as a mate, and he’d do everything in his power to honor the decision.
Farther down the highway, the homey lights of the Beaver Tavern stood out, a beacon in the distance. The sight had become a salve to his displacement since his brother took over their homelands, and already Dax had built memories with Sierra here he never wanted to erase. His lion paced in his chest, anxious to release, to tear into his brother and claim the vengeance his cells screamed for. The closer he got to Beaver Tavern, the more dread infiltrated.
Orange and gold lit the area, and not from the lights.
Flames licked at the surrounding trees, and trucks and cars were parked haphazardly in the gravel lot, the spotlight illuminating the clash of not only humans, but mountain lions against wolves. Beaver Tavern’s door lay open, and based on the way people raced in and out, the inside brimmed with a similar state of chaos.
Anger roared through him, sparked by the sight of the destruction his brother wrought. He screeched to a halt at the turnoff into the lot.
“Don’t go gunning for the center of the chaos,” Sierra barked out, her voice taking on the harsh growl of her wolf side. “Pull off to the side, and if you spot your brother’s car, that’s where you need to be.”
Dax gripped tightly to the steering wheel and guided his truck into the narrow gap leading to the empty side of the parking lot. His brother had had the same Cadillac for years, one he’d taken as a personal challenge to keep running. Dax would recognize the black car with the myriad slapped-together parts anywhere. The second he skidded to a halt on the gravel, Sierra dove out of the passenger’s side.
She immediately began shifting into her wolf form, and by the time she hit the ground, she landed on all four paws. Her clothes hit the ground in shreds. She didn’t communicate where she headed, but he didn’t need to ask—she’d be running to the heart of all the chaos inside Beaver Tavern. His heart squeezed tightly as he quelled the urge to follow. Working as a team sometimes meant working apart, and although the desire to protect her coiled within him, she was tough and smart enough to handle herself.
Dax turned the engine off and hopped out of his car, remaining in human form. His boots hit the gravel, spraying stones everywhere. Feet away, the trees licked with flames, a forest fire that could spread fast. They had to get a team on that at once.
Sierra loped in through the entrance of Beaver Tavern, the silver wolf disappearing into the building. A second later, a wolf howl rent the air, the eerie, ear-piercing wail drawing every eye in that direction. The noise contained all the mourning for the surrounding destruction, all the rage at the unjust attack, and all the ferocity of the fight they would bring. Dax understood the howl for what it was though: Sierra sounded her rallying cry.