Page 41 of Forged Alliances
Chapter Nineteen
The state of the Beaver Tavern broke Sierra’s heart. She couldn’t help the mournful howl that ripped from her throat.
Those bastards had used human weapons again, blasting bullets through the wooden floors, the walls, and the ceilings. The windows splintered into shards along the ground. Blood splattered the walls, dribbled across the floors, and streaked across the overturned tables. Bile rose in her throat at the tinny scent, at the blood of her packmates splayed across their gathering place. Rage swelled with the fury of a storm, containing no words and no lofty statements to rally behind. It was the deep bellows of wrath inspired by the raw grief suspended in the thickened air.
Soft sobs came from behind the bar and growls from the back room. Sierra’s head spun with a toxic spell of sorrow and anger, of the choking, blinding need for vengeance against the massacre to her home. Her breaths came out heavy even as she forced herself to focus, padding across the splintered hardwood and kicking past the spent shells of the machine guns that had been brought into her tavern.
Focus. One thing at a time.
Sierra tried to ignore the broken windows that once lit up like home from the highway and the bashed-in pool table she’d spent so many nights around with the others, laughing and tossing back a couple of pints. She slipped around the bar to the quiet sounds of whoever waited behind there. The sight socked her in the gut.
Raven sat on the floor, tears streaming and her phone glowing forgotten on the floor. She clung to the still body of Seamus, streaks of blood coating her arms and soaking into her shirt. Bullet holes littered his chest as if they’d pierced through the bar, the wounds raw, red, and oozing. Her packmate lay there unmoving, his mouth agape, so different from the easy smile he wielded when he operated behind the bar. Sierra’s stomach tightened, and a whine came from her throat, drawing Raven’s attention.
One of hers. The bastard had murdered one of her pack.
Raven blinked at her, those dark eyes glossy with tears. “He jumped in front,” she murmured, forcing the words out. “They were aiming at me…” Raven trailed off, a sob rising in her throat again. Agony painted Raven’s face, the same that pierced right through Sierra. At the loss of the vibrant smile, the teasing words, and the fierce protection of Seamus. She’d no longer see him behind the bar, one of the hardest working employees in the place. He wouldn’t be pouring her a pint on a bad day anymore or cracking a bad pun that made her groan. Those wise, expressive eyes had closed for good.
Sierra padded to Raven and swiped her muzzle along the woman’s cheek, doing her best to brush away the tears. The hot splash of them tickled her nose, and another whine slipped from her throat. The grief reached her wolf just as keenly. Raven tilted her head in submission as Sierra tapped again against her cheek. Her heart squeezed tightly. This destruction should’ve never happened—her pack had no chance at an honorable fight. The attack went against shifter law, broke the rules and the code engraved on her bones.
The room dizzied around her, and even though growls and snarls came from the back room, her paws stayed. She didn’t want to move from this place. She didn’t want to leave Raven alone with her sorrow right now, to leave Seamus lying there surrounded by a pool of his own blood.
The overwhelming scent of blood and the surrounding chaos resurrected memories of the bombs set among Dax’s people. She’d told him to stand tall—that his people needed him to lead in that moment more than anything—and as alpha of the Red Rock pack, she needed to do the same.
Sierra tilted her muzzle in Raven’s direction before forcing herself away from the scene. Away from the guilt threatening to devour her. Her packmate lay dead on the floor, part of the family she chose stolen from her. This entire nightmare had happened because she’d taken in the Silver Springs. Because she’d been fucking around with Dax while her people were being attacked. Sierra raced toward the snarls coming from the back room, shutting out the poison that threatened to take over her brain. Down that spiral lay madness.
She slunk into the kitchen right as a dish went whizzing by her head to crack against the wall beside her. Shards of porcelain sailed through the air, and she swerved to avoid the shrapnel. Finn fumbled for another plate on the opposite side of the room. A mountain lion Sierra didn’t recognize squared off with a russet wolf she definitely did. Jer lunged forward, jaws snapping at his opponent while Finn wielded another plate, ready to hurl it. His gaze skated up to meet hers.
“Sorry, boss,” he called out, his voice thick with the rage consuming them like a wildfire. The way his gaze darkened, the guilt had ensnared him—she didn’t need to clarify what the apology was for. No one else would be hurt, not on her watch. A male lion stalked back and forth, ducking right out of Jer’s way. Too bad for the Silver Springs traitor she’d sparred with their kind before, and Dax’s level of combat prowess blew this asshole out of the water.
Sierra let out a snarl, drawing both the lion and Jer’s attention her way. Jer’s eyes flashed as his gaze met hers, and she leaped in, fangs bared as she hurled herself toward their enemy. The mountain lion’s attention swung her way as he reared in defense. That would cost him.
Jer seized advantage of the distraction, jumping onto the mountain lion with a flurry of claws and fangs. He reverted focus too late, as Sierra crashed into the fray on the other side. Her claws sank into flesh, tearing up fur and flaying the skin in the process. The mountain lion didn’t stand a chance against the alpha of the Red Rock pack. Within seconds, he shifted into his human form, the movement blurred in the midst of their transition.
Jer lunged again, but Sierra stepped in the middle as the bloodied male bolted out of their grip, hightailing for the back door leading to the woods. Finn tossed another plate. Even as the porcelain shattered, shards slicing into the Silver Springs male, he didn’t stop. A curse flew from his throat before he leaped out the open door.
Sierra shifted to two feet before stalking over to the office, which remained untouched despite the spray of blood and shattered dishes decorating the black-and-white tile of the kitchen floor. She snagged a spare cotton tee and gym shorts from the closet, slipped them on, and grabbed another pair before she returned to Jer and Finn. Jeremiah shifted to his human form, his muzzle mutating into his face. The second his hands reformed, she tossed him the set of spares. Finn snarled, his teeth baring as his wolf lunged to the forefront, begging the transition.
She shook her head, her chest heavy. Tonight felt a lot like defeat however she spelled it. Those bastards had laid siege to her home and destroyed the place she’d inherited from the former alpha of this pack. Already they’d lost Seamus, and who knew how many other Red Rocks had been injured or worse?
“Why’d you stop me?” Jer shouted, his voice echoing through the kitchen as his teeth elongated into the fangs of his wolf.
Sierra turned to face him, rage taking a bow under the weight of the loss they’d suffered. “Drew and his people are desperate and they’re scared, because tomorrow is the day of their reckoning. Because our people have suffered enough tonight, and I refuse to lose another one of you due to revenge. Tomorrow, Dax will win and the Tribe will deliver their punishment.”
“Yeah, boss, but what if he doesn’t?” Finn asked, his voice solemn as a cemetery. Sierra’s throat tightened, not wanting to broach a future where Dax lost, or worse, where he didn’t survive. The thought sliced her heart with agony, the sort that turned every breath painful.
Sierra lifted her chin, refusing to let those fears overtake her. Not now, when her people needed her. “If he doesn’t, we’ll search them out and slaughter every last one of those bastards. Now let’s send them off our land so we won’t lose any more of our own tonight.”
Finn nodded and strode toward the opened door exiting to the forest. He grabbed tightly to the doorframe before turning around to meet her eyes. “I’ll handle any remainders here. Go to them. Your people need you right now.”
Sierra nodded at her beta, who vanished out the door. She placed a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Help Raven with Seamus. She’s still shell-shocked and could use the assist right now.” Her hand pressed over her mouth with the realization. A bitter curse ripped from her throat. “Fuck, we’ll need to let his sister know. Once the chaos calms, I’ll give her a call.”
Her eyes burned, but she swallowed the grief, keeping the tears at bay. “We can start cleaning this place up.”
Jer nodded, running a bloodstained hand through his curls, unaware of the streak he left. Sierra sucked in a breath and stepped past him, making her way through the wreckage of Beaver Tavern. Even though Raven’s gaze bored into her as she walked by, she trained her focus front and center. If she stopped to look at Seamus lying there on the floor, at the friend she’d lost tonight, she’d crumble.
And right now she needed to stay strong. Her pack needed their alpha.
The moment she stepped outside, the scent of smoke stole her attention. Most of the cars had cleared out, and she didn’t spot any of the mountain lions or the couple of coyotes and bears scuffling with her wolves. Drew might have been behind the attacks, but between the Tribe’s concern over the pipe bombs and these strange shifters here tonight, he didn’t seem to be their only enemy.