Dax lapsed into a silence she didn’t trust, his gaze flicking her way like a brand as his fingertips danced along the edge of the rolled-down window. Beaver Tavern stood out at the end of the street, the cream exterior accented by oak and the surrounding trees providing a haven she always took comfort in. Her tires screeched as she braked and pulled into a parking spot. A couple of trucks and SUVs she didn’t recognize took up spots, and this early they were the only other vehicles in the lot, since the bar didn’t open for another hour.
“Ready to go meet the Tribe?” she asked, her hand resting on the gearshift.
Dax ran his hand through his hair as he forced a smile. “What can go wrong? My brother’s already set about torturing and murdering my packmates. In the wake of that, a couple of heavyweights from the Tribe are nothing.”
Sierra shrugged as she stepped out of her car. “Dax?” she said, meeting his eyes as they faced each other on the opposite sides of her car, her arms resting on the top. “You’ve got the high ground on this. You’re the rightful alpha of the Silver Springs, and you will claim your pack.” The ire in her voice reflected the way the injustice he’d experienced affected her.
Sierra lifted her chin and set off in the direction of the tavern. Dax slipped beside her, his palm resting on her shoulder. He dipped forward, his lips brushing her cheek. The touch set her nerves ablaze, the quick burst of a flare inside her.
“Thanks,” he whispered in her ear, the heat of his breath tickling her and making her hyperaware of how close he stood. Sierra bit her lip and nodded before she gave in to the impulse to jump his bones. Her hands balled into fists as she quickened her pace.
The most dangerous shifters on the East Coast didn’t frighten her in the slightest compared to the mountain-lion menace by the name of Dax Williams.
Chapter Ten
Well, Dax had wanted distraction, but he didn’t think meeting the infamous Tribe with a raging hard-on could be considered putting his best foot forward. No matter how he tried to focus, the bloom of Sierra’s arousal in the air wasn’t helping tamp his intense lust. He sucked in a deep breath and focused on nasty-ass things like wrinkled, paper-thin skin, the moldy can of tomatoes he had in the fridge, and the bottle of Midori he’d killed as a teen, turning his puke neon green for an entire day. By the time she opened the bar door, he was ready to face the big beaters who waited inside.
Dax stepped in, the foreign scent hitting him full force. Sure, the stench of wet dog clung to this place like plaster, but the presence of the Tribe brought the sort of power that made his nose tingle. These were the strongest of their kind, imbued with one of the animal spirits that shifters were descended from. Shamans had created his kind as warriors back when the magic users existed en masse. Now the few remaining only poked their heads out of their remote hovels and communes to anoint new Tribe members.
Dax walked forward, shoulders back and head high. Against the brawn these folks touted, he had to have machismo firing on all cylinders if he hoped to compete. With his position as alpha as shaky as a drunk on Christmas, he was already knee-capped.
“I assume you’re the alpha of the Red Rock pack?” a woman’s voice called from the opposite side of the tavern. Sierra nodded, taking the lead as they wound their way over to the round table where five vicious-looking bastards sat. Even though Sierra’s expression had turned to granite, he could feel the tension buzzing off her the same way it emanated from him.
Their footsteps echoed through the quiet bar as they approached the Tribe members who’d arrived. Finn manned the taps, pouring pints for the visitors with a frown on his face as he watched them warily. The woman who spoke stood, though the others remained seated—not like that diminished the sheer power rolling off them. Even though she couldn’t be taller than five feet, her short stature did little to diminish her lethality. Every inch of cocoa skin her tank top and shorts revealed was corded muscle.
Two big guys promised to compete with him and Finn for brawniest, the sort of men who would tower once they stood to full height. Another of the women had a lean, lanky frame, far from willowy since every spare inch of her packed swimmer’s muscle. A shorter, stockier guy had a scowl like a bulldog and a pockmarked mug to boot.
What would make anyone blink twice were the intricate tribal tattoos coiling across their arms and trailing down their legs. The shamans used them to bind the great spirits of the shifters to these individuals, which created the source of their abilities. Shifters had an advantage over humans with the way they could transform, but those chosen by the spirits were blessed with enhanced speed, strength, and elemental abilities to set them apart from the rest. Only fair that by accepting the spirit, they were bound to the service of shifterkind, small forces throughout the continents who maintained peace and resolved conflicts with honor, morality, and justice.
“And you’re the one petitioning for alpha of the Silver Springs pack?” The short chick fixed her gaze on him, her eyes glowing silver. The air crackled and popped between them, the challenge clear in her statement.
Dax fixed her with a level look. “I am the rightful alpha of Silver Springs. I’m petitioning for my pack’s land to be returned from the hands of a traitor who tore us apart and slaughtered defenseless members of Silver Springs. Who threatened our young.” He delivered his words with tempered rage, cooled and hardened from last night into something concrete. Something defining.
One of the brawny guys smirked, causing some of the seriousness to deflate from the room. “Just trying to assess the situation.”
Sierra pulled over chairs with a squeak, and they joined the Tribe members at the table. Within minutes, Finn swung by with pints of the amber lager they had on tap, making a couple of rounds until he filled the table. He grabbed a seat himself, flipping the chair backward and leaning over to listen. Dax palmed the cold glass, which pressed against his hand like a sedative.
The sheer presence of the Tribe had his lion pacing and growling within, a kick to the chest that sped up by the minute.
The short chick took a sip of beer before placing the glass on the table with a loud clink. “Name’s Navi. Let’s stop dicking around and get to the brass tacks of why you dragged us into your family mess.”
Dax lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t know—seems to me with how quick you lot arrived, all your busy Tribe work must be on the slow side.”
The slender woman placed a hand on the shoulder of the muscular guy beside her, who’d begun growling. “Knock it off, Akio.” She thwacked the guy. “You can thank Sierra for filling me in on the situation. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I respect her enough that if she says this is an issue, I believe her. Besides, we happened to be in the area. We had other business in the region.”
“Thanks again, Jess.” Sierra lifted her pint in appreciation, and a slow smile curled her lips. The Red Rock alpha was full of surprises. “Last night his brother and the other section of the pack attacked Dax’s people, and the bastards used pipe bombs. Do you mind looking into that?”
Jess’s brows furrowed as she exchanged a glance with Akio before resting her gaze on Dax. “Pipe bombs? And you can place your brother at the scene of the crime with a witness?” Even though Navi’s mouth twisted with a dark scowl, she didn’t offer more information. The whole lot of them remained tight-lipped.
Dax let out a frustrated sigh, tugging the brim of his cap. While he might be able to pin other folks in the pack, he hadn’t caught sight or scent of his brother last night.
Navi pounded her fist on the table to get attention, the thump drawing every eye. They all snapped to alert. The Tribe member might be brimming with power, but patience wasn’t a strong suit. “That matter will be dealt with at once. After we finish assessing the scene of yesterday’s crime, we’ll gauge whether or not Drew can contest for alpha of your pack and territory. Hearsay doesn’t count as testimony, and you have to admit, your personal reasons for blaming the attack on him hold bias.”
Dax gritted his te
eth, forcing back a growl at his disapproval. Sierra shot him daggers, her gaze burning into him. He sucked in a deep breath, regaining his composure before speaking. “Then level with me. What do I need to do to claim official leadership of my pack?”
Navi let out a hissed breath through her clenched teeth. “Your pack’s already made a mess of that. Most folks manage to govern on their own, obeying the rules of a fair fight for dominance to decide who’s next to lead. Yours, however, drove you out.”
Dax’s stomach sank at the way they regarded him—he recognized the look, since he’d garnered it a lot growing up. Pity. Pity for the boy who was never in his father’s good graces, even though he’d never had a clue why until now. Familiar irritation swelled like the tide, the anger that folks refused to look at him for what he could do, only who had spurned him.
Jess sighed, running a hand through her copper curls. “Since your pack can’t be trusted to govern fairly, we step in. Your pack and territory becomes contested—open to challenge for any shifter group in the region who wants to claim them. Not only will you have to fight and defeat your brother if he’s not tied to last night, but anyone else who has their eye on the area. If you or your brother win, the Silver Springs pack will remain as is. However, if one of the other local shifter packs takes over, they’ll receive your land, and the Silver Springs pack will be dissolved, the members sent to the closest mountain lion packs.”
Dax held back his sigh, not betraying an inch of the disappointment that raged through him. After the injuries his pack had suffered last night, he wanted to end their agony. He owed them a place to live in peace and as a united pack, since it had all gotten splintered in the wake of his father’s death. Dax had hoped to avoid their lands becoming contested, but if that was what it took to reunite his pack and have a fair fight for alpha, then he’d take the chance.
“They can remain on my land while you’re going through these trials,” Sierra offered. He glanced over at her and saw understanding in her sable gaze. The look soothed him like a balm to his nerves, and their deep, powerful connection flushed him with gratitude.
The other big Latino guy spoke, his voice a deep, motor’s rumble. “Don’t listen to Jareth’s dramatics. You won’t be fighting for the next century. Due process is putting out the notice, and the contestation will last a week. You and your brother will battle the challengers independently. If one of the challengers wins against either of you, they’ll fight whoever is left, and at the end of the rounds, if you and your brother defeat all combatants, you’ll still face off against one another.”
Dax remained calm, stone-faced despite the heaviness weighting his chest. This situation had stretched on far too long for his people, and now they’d be subjected to another week of turbulence where they wouldn’t know if either brother of the Silver Springs pack would lead. At least if Drew was distracted in fighting other folks, he wouldn’t be dropping any more surprise attacks on their doorstep. What choice did Dax have?
“I accept,” Dax said, his voice echoing through the hush of the bar. If the Tribe required this, he would fight until his last breath to bring the Silver Springs pack together under one leader again. He reached out, and Big and Brawny clapped a hand over his as they shook.
“Well met, Dax Williams,” he said with the smirk from before curling his lips. “I’m Lucas Diaz. You’ve got the composure of an alpha. Let’s see if you’ve got the endurance.”
As Dax met the man’s eyes, understanding dawned on him as to why the Tribe would choose this trial. This wasn’t a free-for-all for any bastard setting their eye on his territory and people. Truth be told, anyone with a home wouldn’t fight as fiercely as those who were at risk of losing theirs. These battles would test his stamina and strength. They would also reaffirm his commitment to his pack and his willingness to last under the hurdles that came with leadership. Dax nodded, grabbing his pint and slamming it back as his mountain lion rumbled in response to the oncoming threat. He would defend the members of Silver Springs with his life—for them, he would endure.
The rest of the Tribe finished their pints, a chorus of gulps and the clatter of empty glasses as the bottoms slammed against the hardwood table. Sierra’s gaze hadn’t strayed from him, a curiosity in her eyes drawing him in. He’d been fighting for his place in his family and his pack for the entirety of his life—one more week wouldn’t break him. What he wasn’t used to was the solid support Sierra provided even when she didn’t say a damn word. All too quickly he’d come to see why her pack would follow her to their deaths.
“We’ll head out to investigate the pipe bomb issue involving your brother Drew, and then tomorrow morning we meet at the contested land for the first challengers,” Navi said. Her chair squeaked against the floor as she stood. At that, the rest of the Tribe rose with a couple of glances and nods in his direction.
“Thanks, Jess. I’ll see you at the matches,” Sierra said as she leaned in to begin grabbing the empties. Dax jumped in to help, and a second later Finn joined them. As fast as they’d arrived, the Tribe members wasted no time in exiting, their movements as silent as the predators which marked them. The moment the door clicked shut, all their sheer power departing, tension deflated from Dax in one quick sweep. He wasn’t the only one. Both Finn and Sierra lost the sharp edge to their movements.
“Now I get why people fear those fuckers,” Finn broke the silence of the room as he dragged the first batch of the glasses to the sink. “I’ve never met that sort of rugburn-raw intensity before. How do you know one of them?” he asked, casting a glance to Sierra.
Sierra shrugged. “Met her when I was younger, before I left Philly.”
Finn nodded at Dax. “Sucks about the whole tournament you’ve got to go through to earn your place.”
Dax’s brows lifted in surprise at the sympathy from the Red Rock who’d bared teeth at him mere days ago. “Just have to tangle with a mess of shifters out for blood. No biggie, right?”
Sierra’s lips turned up with a smirk. “Sorry, kitty cat. You might be outclassed. You’re talking shifters in the prime of their condition—full fighting capacity.”
Dax’s jaw clenched on instinct. “And I’m not?” He kept his voice as bland as possible even though the lion in him roared at the slight. Before his temper slipped, he caught the twinkle in her eye and put the pieces together. She goaded him on.
“All I’m saying is you need a couple of new moves if you’re going to take on other alphas in the region,” she said with a casual shrug.
“If you wanted to jump me, darling, all you needed to do was ask.” A broad grin rolled to his face.
Finn snorted and tossed his hand in the air. “I’ll let you two flirt in peace. Catch you guys bright and early—no way in hell I’m missing the fights.” The wolf shifter strolled out of the place post haste, his long strides carrying him far, fast. Not like Dax blamed him for vacating the premises. He’d be lying if he said the weight of his attraction to Sierra wasn’t as fluid as beer in a bar.
Sierra glanced his way, her gaze scorching. He couldn’t help the way he rose to attention at the mere sight of her, at the way the two of them stood in this tavern with no interruptions. The idea of hoisting her on the bar and fucking her into oblivion dominated most of his thoughts, since the troubles looming on his horizon would multiply if he gave them the chance.
“If you’re rusty on your techniques, we could spar at my place.” She trailed her fingertips along the tabletop as she spoke. Dax’s brows lifted because for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if she meant actual sparring or the between-the-sheets action that revved his engine right now. Her gaze pinned him on the spot, freezing the smile on his lips. “Before you spout some smartass line, I mean sparring. If you’re going to be fighting all week, you’d better be prepared, and I’ve got the lowdown on most of the beaters in this area.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared,” he drawled, leaning against one of the pillars. “Consider me flattered, Ka
noska.” Not like he was lying there. That she’d spent time and effort on a screw-up like him in the first place meant more than she could ever know.
“Don’t think I’ll take it easy on you just because you have a pretty face,” Sierra called as she sauntered to the door, swinging her key ring around her finger with a jangle. Dax watched the sway of those hips, nearly salivating as he pushed off the pillar and hurried to follow. Despite the way she railed at him, she had to know she was driving him to her place with no ride home. If anything would test his resolve to keep the bond from turning into a noose around his neck, this would be it.
Those lithe legs for his freedom, apparently.
Chapter Eleven
Inviting Dax Williams into her house ranked up there in her history of poor decisions.
Even though the mating bond loomed over them, she could feel him buzzing with tension in the bar, and like the other night, she couldn’t help herself. He made sense to her when so many folks didn’t. Besides, rage curled in her stomach at the idea of him having to jump through more hoops to keep his land after what his pack had suffered last night. She stepped up to the familiar outline of her cottage, an ivy-tangled one-bedroom deal she’d always dreamed of as a kid growing up in the city.
A shudder rolled down her spine at the memories she tried to repress. Shifters were meant for wide-open spaces, for fresh earth and looming trees. Not the narrow alleys and the cramped Section Eight housing she’d grown up in. Her wolf had been caged for far too long, and the moment she’d saved enough, she’d driven off and hadn’t looked back. She’d left the shattered bottles and venomous words behind and didn’t regret her decision for a second.
Tribal Spirit: Forged Alliances Page 9