“Seamus, mind giving our friend here a drink? I’m sure he could use it after the day he had.” Sierra hunched over the counter, her palms wrapped tightly around a bottle of Jack. He’d expected the same old hostility he’d received yesterday, not the absolute fairness she handled him with, the same way she dealt with her pack. After she’d run out earlier, he’d braced himself for an onslaught of blame. The lack of aggression directed his way disarmed him.
Even though Seamus scowled, he poured a pint of Guinness and passed it over. Dax wrinkled his nose at the foamy, dark brew, not much of a stout man. Still, he wouldn’t turn down free beer. Taking the glass with a tilt of his head in the direction of the World’s Crankiest Bartender, he swiveled in his seat to face Sierra.
“The amount I’m prepared to drink depends on what your friend Jeremiah figured out with the will.” He took a sip from the pint. Even though the beer tasted flat and way too thick, he’d take anything for distraction at this point. His pulse picked up in her presence as her scent wrapped around him, apples and spice.
“He’s on his way over to discuss,” Sierra responded, her gaze flicking away before she continued. “I…went for a long run earlier.” The elephant in the room tap-danced on deafening feet. At some point they’d have to discuss this mess, but if she wanted to play the avoidance game, he’d already joined the ranks as a professional commitment dodger.
He opened his mouth, ready to deliver a comment about running into his bed, when he froze. This mating bond destroyed his go-to avoidance move, because the second he flirted with her, things got real, fast. Instead of responding, he honed in on the pint in front of him, chugging the murky stout in a couple of gulps before he slid the empty glass back over to Seamus.
“Pretty please?” he asked. Seamus shook his head but acquiesced, filling it with more sludgelike brew. He was in a self-flagellating mood anyway, so the drink helped that punishment along. As he grasped the refilled glass, he scooped his balls off the ground and faced Kanoska again. The mating bond had struck so suddenly he’d forgotten about the previous, painful discovery of the day from hell.
“Rylie happened to fling a revelation in my face,” Dax said. If he had a choice in conversations, at least he could broach this one with her. “Pops and the other old folks in the pack might have had such a huge problem with me because apparently I’m not his blood. Never could explain the blatant favoritism for my brother, but now I’m delivered answers on a silver platter.”
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.”
Chapter Seven
Sierra shot from her seat the second the door flew open. Adrenaline coursed through her even before Dax’s packmate stepped in. Dax rushed to Ally, galvanized by her words as his muscles moved with the smooth glide of liquid.
“What’s Drew doing?” he asked, his voice sharpening.
“Overheard him at the usual bar,” she said. “I slipped out before they noticed me, but he’s bringing his group around our way and giving us the choice of accepting him as alpha or he’ll beat us into submission.”
A feral growl ripped from Dax’s throat, surprising Sierra. Thus far, the man had iron control over his beast, but this tapped a direct vein into protection territory, and as an alpha, protecting his pack was priority number one.
“I’ll back you up.” The words slipped from her lips before she registered them. Sure, she shouldn’t be diving into his problems headfirst, and the mating bond had already started messing with her mind, but she wouldn’t stand back and watch while his brother bullied his way into the position. As far as neighbors went, she much preferred Dax. Not just because the man made her hormones rev, but because despite his snarky comments, the man upheld the same sort of moral code she did. That, she could respect.
Finn sidled over to her with a smile. “You better not be leaving me out of a fight, Sierra.” She didn’t miss the way Dax’s gaze slipped to her, those eyes blazing with unbidden possessiveness. She bit back her groan. Wolves were legendarily jealous when mated, and she could guess the feeling transferred to any type of shifter. Already, her skin prickled with how close Ally stood to him. As much as she’d plotted out her avoidance strategy with the mating bond, her body reacted to him, betraying her plans.
“Anyone who feels like blowing off some steam can join in,” Sierra announced bar-wide. Aggression rushed through her, the unspent sexual tension from before brimming under the surface and burning fast into irritation. “We’re going to pummel some traitors into the ground.”
Dax nodded, his face grim. “Avoid killing if possible,” he added. “Those who choose to come, thank you. We won’t turn down help.” His eyes flicked to her, the slight nod conveying his unspoken thanks. Dax turned, leading the way out the door with Ally following close behind.
Finn clapped a hand on her shoulder, and Raven sidled over from where she’d been playing pool. The petite woman’s gaze sparked silver. Apparently she wasn’t the only one jonesing for an outlet. “Let’s go,” Sierra said, following them out of Beaver’s Tavern.
Dax hopped into his truck, and Ally swung into the passenger’s seat. The blonde leaned in to place a hand on his arm, the contact making Sierra blink back red. Finn tapped her on the shoulder.
“Uh, boss,” he said, distracting her for a moment. “You’re growling.”
Sierra swallowed hard, the realization like a slap to the face. “Just looking forward to pummeling some mountain lion ass into the ground,” she said, stalking along the gravel to her beat-up sedan. She slammed the door as she settled into the driver’s seat, the control of being behind the wheel doing wonders for her temper. Control was the key cornerstone to her life and the very reason she had raced out of Dax’s house this morning.
Being mated to a stranger never figured into her plans. She’d dived in for a casual fling with Dax, a way to burn off aggression, not in a thousand years expecting the mating bond to emerge. The whole thing had spiraled so far out of her control she’d been unable to stave the urge to run, to escape. Yet when Dax arrived in the bar, she’d swallowed the fears percolating under the surface and grabbed the issue by the throat. He’d see reason, for sure. She peeled across the parking lot, letting the fury riding through her out onto the gravel.
Except reason didn’t ride the wheel of the possessiveness that flooded her when another female put her hands on him. The mere idea of him made her thighs clench together. And her wolf had approved the moment the bond emerged, the animal instinct overtaking rational thought.
“Care to share what’s going on with our feline friend?” Finn asked. Even though his tone came across casual, she caught the edge of demand there. Her pack wasn’t used to being kept in the dark about much, and besides, her policy of honesty and transparency worked for her and the crew. Problem was, she hadn’t even discussed any of this with Dax yet. As much as she spilled most of her dirt to Finn, this existed between her and the Silver Springs alpha, no one else.
“He’s got family troubles out the ass. Turns out, his father played favorites and even though Dax tried to fight for the position of alpha, major members of the pack broke up the match and drove him off, leaving his brother to lead.” Even though Finn had been angling for the reason behind her sudden territorial attitude, he’d have to wait on the explanation. Until at least she figured out her next move.
Finn lifted a brow but didn’t push. “So this is a big family feud,” he said, allowing her the distraction.
Raven leaned forward from the backseat, her hand resting on the back of the driver’s seat. “Heard rumors from Jer that the Tribe might be coming to town?” she asked, hesitation in her tone.
“You heard right,” Sierra said, gripping her wheel more tightly as she pumped the gas to soar across the highway. “I called my contact earlier. We’ve got nothing to hide, so their visit won’t concern us in the slightest.” Dax’s truck zoomed along at top speed, but in her beast of a car, she barely had to try to keep up.
The way Raven lapsed into silence nagged her, but Sierra allowed her friend her quiet. Not like she planned on parading her own problems on Front Street yet.
Finn shrugged, saving the awkward silence that descended. “As long as I get to bash in some skulls, I’m happy. Things have been so quiet on the home front I’m about ready to snore my way through Sunday. What’s the point in being pack beta if your alpha is a control freak and navigates us out of most fights?”
“All these cats stomping over our territory has me itching for a fight too,” Sierra agreed. “What’s say we establish some dominance to sate the restless wolf inside?” Dax’s truck swerved to the right, so she followed suit, heading down another winding road farther into backwater towns her kind reigned over in this part of Pennsylvania.
“Sounds like a plan,” Raven agreed from the back seat, leaning closer to the front. Sierra glanced back. She didn’t miss the way the striking woman stared at Finn, longing clear as day in those soft eyes. Not like her second in command had ever given the bartender a similar look or the same sort of devotion. She was in good company for the conflicted.
Up ahead, the truck’s brake lights blazed, and Dax made a sharp right down an even narrower road. Gravel crunched under the tires as Sierra kept pace along the small, winding road. At the end, it branched into a circle, surrounded by the lights glowing through the windows of several Cape Cod houses. These places nestled in the middle of the woods like this spelled “hearth and home” in a way that spoke to her. At least, until she screeched to a stop behind Dax’s truck and stepped out of her
car.
Screams and growls rent the air, the sort that crawled into her veins, jarring her protective instinct. Drew and his band of assholes must’ve beaten them here.
Dax took off at a flat run with Ally close behind. Sierra couldn’t help the competitive streak working through her veins. Even though her pack wasn’t in danger, the wolf inside her snapped at the leash. She transitioned in the blink of an eye, one moment standing on two feet, the next on four as her claws clicked against the gravel. Her clothes drifted in shreds to the ground.
Sierra lunged forward, slicing across the distance in her faster form. She loped across the loamy earth, the blades of grass squishing beneath the pads of her paws. Dax shifted liquid fast into the tawny mountain cat with coiled muscles and a peppering of ash streaks through his pelt. They vaulted for the door, which hung by the hinges, splinters littering the tiled floor inside and sour light from the entryway spilling onto the front porch. The tang of blood already burst in a violent bloom, threading through the heavy air.
A loud hiss came from inside the house.
Dax’s gaze flashed as he plunged through the entryway. Sierra skidded to a halt right before diving in after him. Racing headfirst into danger was never a wise move, but his impulse to protect his pack would drown out any precautions. Between her and Dax, one of them had to think clearly. Ally blazed past her, rushing in to back up her alpha. As much as Sierra’s heart pumped with adrenaline, pushing her to follow suit, she refused to ignore the tug in her gut telling her otherwise.
A whiff of an unrecognizable scent caught her nose, and she followed the trail, circling around to the back of the house. She navigated with the stealth afforded to her kind, the silent approach of a wolf. Bypassing the vinyl siding, she reached the edge where the yard sprawled, shared by several properties. Sierra stuck to the shadows, ignoring the way her veins jittered with anticipation of a brawl to focus on the hunt instead.
Tribal Spirit: Forged Alliances Page 6