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.
At the alert of her howl, wolves entangled with former members of his pack separated, leaving them to rush the inside of Beaver Tavern. One by one, the members of Red Rock pack rallied to heed the order of their alpha.
Dax scanned the crowd. If Sierra was heading for the center of the action, he’d be her eyes and ears. He hadn’t spotted his brother yet, but he recognized some of the faces and the lions fighting down below, joined by strangers from neither pack. He swallowed hard, knowing what his next course of action had to be. Despite the need for revenge pounding through his veins, he knew this had been an act of desperation. Because Drew was scared.
Dax had almost beaten his brother before, and this time, no one could jump in to break up the fight. If Drew lost tomorrow, he’d lose everything: his position, his land, and his supporters. Despite those who followed him, Drew would remain as emotionally isolated as he’d always been, trying to seize things through cowardly and bullying tactics like Dad had. Dax hadn’t chosen that route. The people who followed him had the sort of loyalty that leaders would kill for, and he’d made an alliance forged in steel, forged in the mating bond between him and Sierra.
Unlike his brother, Dax wasn’t desperate. And because of the strength his pack and the Red Rocks lent him, he could see the big picture for once.
“Pack,” Dax called, his voice booming over the growls and hisses lighting the air. “Quit fighting. The fire will spread if we don’t stop it.”
A screech resounded through the air as a black Cadillac pulled out from a parking spot. Dax caught sight of the man behind the wheel as he veered past him, the first glimpse he’d gotten of his brother since the day they’d fought for the alpha position.
His brother had always been the handsomer of the two with the sort of blond-haired, blue-eyed surfer thing most girls lost their shit over. The fights must’ve sapped his energy though, because dark circles intensified the blue in his eyes, and a long scratch marred his cheek, one that would heal ugly. The man who led the rogue Silver Springs into this fray was taking the cowardly way out yet again, abandoning his people to fend for themselves.
All the jealousy Dax had stored over the years of the favoritism his father had showered over his brother dissolved in an instant. In that simple glimpse, the man transformed from an equal to fight against into a coward he pitied. He didn’t envy the lonely path his brother had chosen. Dax could waste his time chasing vengeance, but tomorrow he had the chance to exact justice—far more important. Here and now, they had to salvage what they could of Beaver Tavern and help those who had been injured.
Several trees whined as the fire ripped through them, bringing branches crashing down and fueling the inferno.
The Cadillac’s tires screeched as his brother peeled onto the highway and raced away. At the sight of their leader departing, several of the rebels broke away from their fights, shifting to two feet as they rushed to their cars. Rylie and a couple of others stayed, vicious snarls erupting from their throats as they poured unrestrained rage into attacking folks once considered family. To Dax’s relief, he hadn’t spotted Uncle Aiden in the crowd. Before his pack could pursue, Dax called to them again.
“Throw dirt on the fire to smother it. Those closer to the tavern, run in and get buckets of water.” His voice echoed through the clearing. If the fire managed to spread, not only could the blaze take down the forest, but it would smother Beaver Tavern as well, trapping whoever remained inside—including his mate. Orders delivered, Dax didn’t wait any longer as he rushed toward the crackling blaze in the woods.
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 surr
ounding 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.
Sierra strode in the direction of the trees, her heart in her throat. In her haste to get inside and take care of the tavern, she’d forgotten about the blaze in the trees, one that could have spread to engulf the bar just as fast. Despite the smoke pouring into the night sky to smother the stars, the trees no longer burned, and only a couple of licks of flame ran through the clearing.
Red Rocks and Silver Springs worked seamlessly together. Those in human form had formed a bucket brigade, while wolves and mountain lions kicked dirt to snuff out some of the flames. Dax wove amid the crowd, barking commands, diving into the tasks, and overseeing the whole operation. Her mate had picked up her slack with no direction necessary, stepping back to see the big picture when she had rushed in to help her people.
Her chest loosened with the relief she needed after the events of the night. Dax caught sight of her and nodded, his mouth forming a grim line. She nodded back, not needing to say a word to communicate her gratitude. In such a short time they’d woven deeply into each other’s lives. It should’ve terrified her—closeness with anyone in the past had sent her scrambling—but no longer.
Dax was her mate, her partner in every sense of the word, and after years of shouldering the burden of leadership alone, she’d found someone she trusted enough to share the weight.
As the packs stamped out the last of the fire, Dax waved them over. She stood in front of the Beaver Tavern, beckoning the Red Rocks to her side. Sierra ran a hand through her hair, her fingers growing slick with sweat. Her breath came out sharp from her tight chest, the horrors of the night one that would live in her memory for a long time. Blood streaked the fur of too many of the approaching wolves and mountain lions, and more than a couple of those in human form limped.
“Drew and his rebels have escaped tonight,” she called out, her voice carrying across the clearing. Even as Sierra stood there facing the dozens of weary gazes, she shut off the intense boil of emotions threatening to overflow as she operated on autopilot. A couple of curses broke out, and several of her wolves moved back and fort
h on padded feet, searching for something to lunge into, to take a bite out of.
Sierra lifted her chin, her hands balling into fists. “That doesn’t mean he will escape justice. Red Rocks, this bastard has come here and destroyed our home, unprovoked and unwarranted. This coward doesn’t fight by our rules. Silver Springs, he has divided your people, turned against your rightful alpha, and torn friends and family apart.”
Dax watched from the back of the crowd with his arms crossed. Even from here, guilt tugged at his frown, his stance defensive. And he wasn’t the only one. The mountain lions in the crowd kept their heads bowed with their gazes skating the ground, and those of the Silver Spring in human form wouldn’t look up either. Shame coated each and every face, shame that sparked outrage in Sierra.
“I was planning on waiting with this news,” she started, meeting Dax’s gaze across the crowd. His brows lifted in surprise—of course, he anticipated where she headed with this. “However, after what we experienced here tonight, together, this is important now. Dax and I are mated.”
More than a couple of jaws dropped, and Finn shook his head with a smug half smile. The shock rolling through the crowd drew their attention, snapping the Silver Springs pack out of their self-loathing. Sierra seized on the opportunity.
“Our packs are connected in a unique way, and tonight, more than ever, you can be proud of how you banded together. Of how you helped one another against a common enemy and how we acted to protect, not destroy. Tonight we’ll lick our wounds, and we’ll start to mend what we can. However, tomorrow when Dax steps up to challenge his brother, we will stand united again, our alliance forged in the fights we shared and in the blood we shed.”
At the mention of his name, Dax wove past the others to stand by her side. He squeezed her hand, and she didn’t shy away. In this light, leaning on him didn’t make her weaker—this sort of togetherness made packs strong. The connection was how they remained whole during the tough times. The two alphas faced their packs in a show of solidarity in the wake of the tragedy Drew caused, one that wouldn’t be allowed to go unpunished any longer.
Tribal Spirit: Forged Alliances Page 17