Tribal Spirit: Forged Alliances

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Tribal Spirit: Forged Alliances Page 14

by Katherine McIntyre


  “Wanted to get my daily tongue-lashing from everyone’s favorite pup alpha,” he said, leaning against her countertop. “Plus, got word on Drew’s round two. He won, so as long as I can tackle the next challenger, we should be facing off by the week’s end.”

  Sierra pulled out a second mug and filled it to the brim. “Any word on that?” She offered over the cup, and Dax accepted, his hand brushing hers in the process. The electricity she’d chosen to ignore when they first met had grown undeniable now, raw in the air as if it had been painted there. Her gaze lingered on his lips as he took a sip from the steaming mug. His eyes glowed with amusement when their gazes met, and Sierra made quick work on grabbing her cup of coffee and fixing it up with cream and sugar.

  “Looks like I’ll be fighting Dominic Enrico, another pup alpha like yourself. Tomorrow at high noon, fitting for the cheesy western this is turning into.” Dax blew on the surface of his coffee, shifting his jean-clad legs in a too-distracting way.

  “He’s dangerous,” Sierra responded, the heat from the mug printing her palms. “Marine trained and deadly, combined with a lot of power for a shifter. The Yellowrock pack has given us the runaround in the past, and we’ve almost come to butting heads. Every time, I managed to reroute to civil discourse, because I’m not sure that’s a fight I could win.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m the one fighting him,” Dax said with a wink as he polished off the rest of his coffee. Sierra glared at him, positive her warning hadn’t sunk home. “Now quit dawdling. We’ve got places to be.”

  She crooked an eyebrow. “I think I’d know if I had somewhere to be. Pack-related activities are suspended while the Tribe’s in town. My schedule has been freed up to watch you getting your sorry ass handed to you.”

  “Except for right now. Pop on your hiking boots,” he said, his bossy tone making her want to slug him in the face. Sierra crossed her arms and didn’t budge an inch. Dax heaved a sigh before giving her the side eye. “You’re going to take off your shoes and plant, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t resist the smug smile surfacing. “Not sure if I trust you yet, Mr. Williams. Not enough to go traipsing blindly after you.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “I need to practice a couple of the moves you showed me the other day, and since you’re a tough pup like this Enrico bastard, I volunteered you for the position. Getting a good hike in is just a bonus.”

  Warmth curled in her stomach at his words, even though she hid how his regard made her melt. He’d chosen to come to her for help, driving all the way out here to drag her along. The implied flattery was there—he trusted her strength.

  “That so hard to say?” she asked as she sauntered over to her couch where her hiking boots had keeled over, leaving dried chunks of mud on the carpet. She laced them on and rose, wiping her hands on her jean shorts. Her canvas bag with spares lay rumpled on the floor, so she scooped it up and looped it around her shoulder. Sierra caught Dax’s eye as he leaned there against her kitchen counter. “Come on, you’re holding us up.”

  Dax placed the mug on the countertop, his brows furrowed with annoyance. If he wanted to be a pain in her ass, she’d turn his own games around on him. “Anyone tell you that you’re a stubborn, stubborn woman?”

  “Every day of my life,” she said, making her way to the door. Dax followed suit, slipping his hands into his pockets. Any hint of irritation disappeared from his easy smile.

  Dax climbed into his beast of a truck he’d parked out front and leaned out the open window. “Hop on in,” he called. Sierra basked in the sunlight as she made her way to the passenger’s side.

  Her heart floated more lightly than it had in years, as if the burden of being alpha had been lifted from her shoulders for a brief gasp. As she settled into the leather seat, she cast a glance his way. Dax leaned back, his powerful forearms taut as he gripped the steering wheel. Maybe because for the first time, she had an equal, a fellow alpha to confide in. He rolled out of her driveway, following the gravel road to the highway. The rays soaked his skin, highlighting the nick on his cheek and the dark stubble along his chin.

  “You going to be there to cheer me along tomorrow?” Dax asked, casting her a glance, his eyes twinkling. “Make sure to wear the whole pleated-skirt getup.”

  Sierra’s jaw clenched more tightly as the familiar prickle of irritation rose in her chest. “You had to ruin it all by opening your mouth,” she drawled, running her hand through her hair to tame the strands tossed around by the breeze.

  The sign for Ricketts Glen State Park appeared on the side of the road amid the tall grasses and surrounded by the thick, unkempt woods she’d run through too many times to count. Dax turned down the narrow dirt path leading deeper into the forest, the pines towering overhead. Already the sounds of the park pricked her hearing, the distant rush of the streams channeling into the dozens of waterfalls throughout this stretch and the whistling of birds chirping to one another from above.

  They came to a halt in one of the parking lots where one or two other cars were stationed. Sierra hopped out of her side, her boots sending gravel and dust flying as she slammed to the ground.

  “Race you to the first waterfall on the path?” Dax asked, his blues alight with mischief as he slammed the driver’s-side door. Sierra’s chest warmed. The sunlight, the loamy scent of earth, and the surrounding forest life dosed her veins with the best sort of high.

  “You’re on,” she responded, setting into motion before the words left her lips. Dax barked a laugh, the sound rich in the air as Sierra hurtled for the embrace of the woods.

  * * * *

  “Even with the head start I kicked your ass.” Dax crouched at the top of the trail winding around the waterfall, the churning water roaring in Sierra’s ears. His cocky grin grew insufferable fast as his shoulders rose up and down in exertion. Sierra made her way to him, her breaths cycling faster from the speed of their run. They’d both mad-dashed up here in human form, and lightness sank its claws in at the sheer joy of the way he played, a childish carefree way she hadn’t embraced in longer than she could remember.

  “Yeah, let’s see how well you’d do in animal form,” Sierra retorted, crouching to lean against one of the flat rocks alongside the path. She reached out to skim her fingers through the cascading water, the delicious chill sending a shiver down her spine. “Lazy cats don’t win races.”

  “Apparently neither do stubborn pups,” he shot back, the wide grin on his face unrestrained. Unlike the coy smiles he passed when flirting, this one was raw and real as if the sheer joy of the gorgeous summer day infected him as well.

  Sierra couldn’t resist taking advantage of the rare earnest moment from him. “How’ve you been faring through all this?”

  Dax took a seat beside her on the ground with his long legs crooked as he leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “I’m tired. Tired of the bullshit keeping me and mine from returning home. Tired of Drew still being a problem and that there’s even a chance the Cowardly Lion might snag both the territory and leadership of the Silver Springs pack smacks of bullshit.”

  Sierra nudged his calf with her boot. “That’s not even a consideration, and you know it.” Her voice came out in a near growl, filled with a conviction that stirred her soul. She understood his strain all too well, got how the sheer injustice could make this fight seem endless. If any morality were to prevail, Dax would win these fights and claim his pack. Unfortunately, she’d seen enough of life to know those hopes were as arbitrary as a summer storm.

  “Better quit all this encouraging shit, Kanoska. Folks might start thinking you like me,” he teased, nudging back with his leg. Even though his voice remained light, the weight of his gaze was anything but.

  “You’re not the worst,” she muttered, her cheeks warming under his scrutiny. “I’ll admit, I don’t mind talking to someone who hates his brother as much as I hate mine. It’s refreshing.”

  “I’m glad my family problems warm the cockles of your
ice-cold heart,” he drawled, his lips curled and his eyes dancing. Heat coursed through her. Beyond the tug from the mating bond, she had grown to genuinely like Dax Williams.

  Gorgeous face and sexy body aside, the man was her equal, strong enough to respect, and despite the power games they played, her strength didn’t make him back down or shy away. If anything, her stubborn resilience encouraged him to play dirty. Even with her shattered past and the damage sliced into her psyche, he didn’t try to fix her or smooth over her jagged edges, just like she didn’t try to convince him the relationship with Drew was one worth fixing. Both of them had learned early on your own blood could hurt you the worst. That family was a choice.

  “What will warm my heart is delivering your brother’s head on a plate. He’s caused so many problems for this region with this upheaval that you’re no longer the only one who wants a bite out of him.” She kicked a couple of stones around, sending one flying over the ledge of the waterfall. The fluid motion mesmerized her, a flow that sparked crystalline under the rays of the sun.

  As she turned to look at him, Dax leaned forward, his fingers slipping through her hair as he cupped the back of her head.

  His lips brushed over hers, nothing like the fiery explosions that had erupted between them before. This gentle scrape of a kiss shocked her with adrenaline, coaxing the deep, burning core of her to the surface. The sun glowed along her skin, the warmth and light dizzying when combined with the sensations of his fingers tangled through her hair and his lips on hers. She melted into the kiss, embracing the heady swirl of euphoria that emerged as they continued this tentative exploration.

  This wasn’t some mind-scorching encounter where clothes hit the floor. No, this bordered on much more dangerous territory. The tenderness infused in his motions, the way her heart ached bittersweet, so overfull it grew painful. He left an indelible mark on her she never wanted to erase.

  The scent of him, all cedar and sweat, had become a drug for her, the sort that traveled straight to her heart. Despite the resistance to the bond, they’d forged a connection most only dreamed about, one she’d never in a thousand years believed she’d find. His tongue slipped out, a caress against her own as Dax deepened the kiss. Every ounce of her begged to surrender and not just due to hormones running rampant.

  Sierra pulled away, shattering the thick tension between them laced with the crisp scent of the falling water. “Tomorrow, after you fight Enrico, let’s do this.” She reached up to slip a strand of hair behind her ear. “I mean, if you’re on board.”

  Dax crooked a brow at her, his gaze dancing with the spark of hope. “You’re talking about the mating bond?”

  Sierra met his gaze head on, refusing to hide her feelings any longer. “We’ve got something between us, and while I can’t predict the future, I don’t want to miss out on this.”

  He snorted. “Should I be surprised you’re planning when we seal the deal?” Dax reached out to wrap an arm around her and tug her against him. Her heart stuttered in her chest, the admission between them filling her with a giddy zeal. “What’s wrong with taking you here and now by the waterfall?” His voice grew husky with desire.

  Sierra’s gaze sparked, filled with the mischief he inspired in her. “Because you’ve got training to do for tomorrow.” She hopped up, dusting her knees off before she reached down to grab her canvas bag. A smile stole her face, as bright as the glow she felt inside. “And if you’re rolling around here, you’ll never stand a chance at beating me to the next waterfall.”

  Before Dax could react, Sierra loosed like an arrow, plunging deeper into the woods.

  He set off at once, kicking up dirt behind him. The woman loped up the stones of the narrow trail before them with the steadiness of a wolf, every step with that lupine agility. Dax watched her strides, marking them in his memory as he pursued, both man and cat thrilled at the way she played with him. Sweat pricked his brow, and the wind rippled the hairs along his arms as he raced after her.

  Within minutes, she’d gone off the trail and out of sight.

  “Sierra?” Dax called, slowing down for a heartbeat as he mopped his forehead with his shirt.

  He caught the rustle of the nearby bushes too late.

  Sierra lunged fist-first, hurtling toward him.

  He lifted his hands to block her fists, dampening the force of the blow. His boots dug into the dirt as he staggered back a pace.

  “You’re fighting a wolf tomorrow,” she said, her eyes gleaming with confidence. Her body moved with that same assuredness, one that made him burn for her all the more. “While you were able to rely on your speed with Dorlan, your next opponent will be faster. He might not have the forest for stealth, but he’ll be unpredictable.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up, Yoda,” he responded, stepping in closer. The moment he moved, she crouched on guard, ready for him. With her sort of vigilance, he wasn’t going to get a blow in without her being able to absorb it. “What’s your take on getting past that obnoxious guard of yours then?” he asked, pacing around her as he waited for an opening to present itself.

  Wolves might be vigilant, but cats were patient, and Dax had an incredibly long fuse.

  She shrugged. “There’re no guarantees in a fight. Every person is different. However, one thing that most folks underestimate is sacrifice. I’m not saying go and get yourself mauled.” She pursed her lips, fixing him with a look. “However, everyone expects self-preservation to kick in. If you’re backed into a corner, don’t be scared to try something crazy. Better to risk than get killed.”

  Dax had been closing the distance between them, inch by inch, as she spoke. Wrapped up in her words, she hadn’t noticed the gradual transition. His hands slipped around her waist before she could throw another punch.

  “Gotcha,” he murmured in her ear as he drew her close. The spice of her scent, the heat of her body pressed against his, was enough to throw his senses into overdrive.

  Sierra’s lips curled in a sensual smirk that traveled straight to his cock, which ached at this point. The urge to tackle her and claim her rode him fiercely, but he had the perfect target for that pent-up frustration tomorrow morning at the match. The big bad wolf wouldn’t know what hit him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dominic Enrico was one mean-looking sonofabitch.

  Clouds darkened overhead, the air thick with the promise of a storm, but even without the clouds, Dax could’ve scented out the foreboding on the breeze a mile away. He stepped into the ring to face Enrico, a Latino guy who cast a mighty-long shadow and had more scars than teeth.

  “Didn’t realize I’d be fighting a bulldog,” Dax called, unable to help himself in the shit-talking department. “Might want to wipe the bit of drool dripping from your scowl. I know I’m attractive, but I trust you can control yourself.” A groan came from someone in the crowd, sounding all too similar to Sierra. He scuffed his boots along the ground, kicking up dirt around the clearing in the process. His heartbeat thudded a staccato beat at the impending fight, and his lion paced in anticipation.

  Another threat to his home and his people. Yet another fight that could result in the dissolution of the Silver Springs pack.

  Enrico growled, but he didn’t seem to have the reactionary anger of the bear clan alpha. This sort of bitter rage consumed a person until it thudded in their chest to the same tempo as a heartbeat. Which meant his favorite strategy of pissing the opponent off until they made a mistake wouldn’t work. Sierra’s warning resounded in his head—the worry rang clear in her voice.

  Dax glanced at the crowd. Most of the Silver Springs and Red Rock packs had shown up for this match, but his focus zeroed in on the lithe woman with her arms crossed and a scowl on those beautiful lips. Ever since yesterday, when they’d had their conversation, excitement twisted his chest, as if he prepared to dive off a cliff into the ocean. All he had to do was beat Enrico first.

  Dax stretched his arms over his head, beginning to pace around the clearing in preparatio
n for the fight. The midday sun shone without mercy, causing sweat to bead along his forehead.

  Jess stepped into the ring, her presence like a lightning strike of focus. All the Tribe members had the sort of power that snared awareness at once.

  She clapped her hands to get attention, though she didn’t need to—the entire crowd had silenced the second she stepped into the ring. “You know the drill, boys. Animal forms for this fight. Dominic Enrico of the Yellowrock pack and Dax Williams of the Silver Springs pack, you are to face one another in combat over this terrain once possessed by the Silver Spring shifters. The first one who doesn’t rise, loses. The winner will advance to face the final combatant.”

  Her voice rang out through the quiet clearing, and goose bumps trailed up Dax’s arms. Like the last time, both of them stripped down and tossed their clothes to the edge of the ring. This was the sixth day, the final challenger keeping him from tearing his brother to pieces. He couldn’t lose.

  The air thickened with tension from the oncoming fight, from the onlooker’s bated anticipation. Enrico’s muscles tensed as the shifter readied to lunge, to fight, and to kill. His amber gaze glittered with menace, and a low growl emitted from his throat. Dax lifted his chin, meeting him head-on. This was his home, and he’d defend it with pride.

  “Ready?” Jess called out, lifting her palms. The sunlight sparked through the trees, blinding him for a second. Dax sucked in a deep breath and let it flow through him to settle into his muscles.

  “Fight,” she shouted.

  Once the words passed her lips, Dax transformed into the mountain lion, claws and fangs emerging as his body shifted until he crouched on all four paws. From across the clearing, Enrico shifted as fast. A hulking, obsidian wolf with a multitude of scars patched through the fur stood in the place of the Latino man. Before Dax could scope out his opponent’s movements, Enrico struck.

 

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