Page 44 of Forged Alliances

Dax’s elbow slammed down on his spine with a crunch, the blow reverberating up his arm.

A groan flew from his brother’s lips, but the man darted ahead, rolling against the ground to slide out of the way. Drew kicked up clouds of dust with his movement, and Dax quickstepped to the side, avoiding the roiling grit.

Before his brother could rise, Dax ducked low, aiming a sweeping kick for the legs.

His boot thudded against Drew’s shin, but his brother clamped his hands around his ankle, tugging him farther. Dax followed the movement. Air whirred around him, and drops of sweat slithered down his back as the midday sun pounded down. He launched onto his brother with the ferocity of a lion, his claws begging to come out and play. With a crash, he collided against Drew, the full weight of him slamming into his brother’s side. Drew’s grip around his ankle loosened.

If his brother wanted relentless, that’s what he’d be.

Drew’s fist sliced an inch above his head, a near hit.

Dax didn’t back down. Instead he rammed his head forward, his thick-as-fuck skull slamming into the asshole’s ribcage. Bones creaked, but he didn’t know whose as he led with his right shoulder to slam Drew back. He thudded against his brother so hard the breath nearly flew from him, and Drew wavered, teetering back and forth as he tried to find his balance.

Couldn’t stop there.

Before Drew righted himself, Dax wove in with an elbow again, a forearm thrust that sent him tumbling.

The second Drew landed on his back, Dax struck. He leaped on top, pinning his brother down, leading with his arm across his chest and sinking in his weight to follow. Drew’s fist clipped his cheekbone with a resounding thud, and Dax bit back the tang of blood, sliding to the side to avoid the oncoming punch from the opposite side. His brother’s spit flew to smack against his cheek, but Dax shoved his weight down to keep the asshole pinned. Peripheral sounds turned into a distant buzz compared to the sharp intake of breath, the groan of muscles, and the crunch of bone.

Drew wanted an easy fight, but their father wasn’t here to hand him a leg up. Here, he had to face Dax in his full fury.

Here, he’d pay for the lives he’d stolen.

For Greg, whom Dax had found lying dead in his own home.

For Seamus, who’d been shot while defending his pack.

Drew’s knee dug into his stomach as he used the advantage to pivot. The tap to his chest distracted him long enough for his brother to roll out from under him. Before Dax could follow up, Drew rammed full force into his wounded shoulder. Pain thundered through him, the gash on his shoulder throbbing with newfound intensity. Bile rose in his throat. He bit back a curse and staggered out of Drew’s radius.

Desperation drove his brother though, and before Dax could whip his head up, Drew’s fist drilled into his chin. Dax’s head snapped back, the sound echoing through the clearing as his brain blanked for a heartbeat. Even as his balance shifted beneath him, he pivoted in loops rather than staggering as he circled out of Drew’s reach.

A cocky grin rolled onto his brother’s face as he approached, the skulking posture and the hunch of his shoulders brimming with confidence. Asshole had sussed out his weak spot, so that’d be his target from here on out. Wetness spread along Dax’s shoulder, blood leaking through the fabric of his shirt.

Fuck.

Drew’s knee shifted up, and Dax surged forward in response, ready to greet the blow. At the last second, he stopped mid-stride.

Left shoulder.

The fist came sailing in his direction right as the knee retreated.

Dax ducked.

His hands shot up, one wrapping around the asshole’s forearm. His other hand curled into a fist before it crashed against the side of Drew’s elbow. His brother let out a piercing howl, but Dax wasn’t done yet. With the joint destabilized, he tugged the forearm the opposite way.

The crunch echoed through the air as bones snapped.

Drew slammed his head into Dax’s already shredded shoulder before he collapsed to the ground, a low growl reverberating through his chest.

When the blow landed, Dax’s stomach revolted. Nausea rushed through him in a sickening sweep, enough to make him stagger and his surroundings swirl. The vertigo claiming him spelled bad news. If he didn’t end this soon, the pain would make him black out. He’d lose by proxy.

A loud howl came from behind him, one he’d recognize anywhere, sending goose bumps up his arms. The piercing sound sliced through the haze of pain in his mind until he reached the clarity he’d been searching for. She believed in him—for Sierra, for the Silver Spring pack, he would fight. He would win.

Drew pulled himself up to face him with his left shoulder slumped from his injured elbow.

All or nothing.

Dax’s jaw tensed as he clenched his hands into fists. Keeping both shoulders back so he didn’t give himself away, he launched toward Drew, closing the distance between them. Drew twisted to the right, shielding his injury. Dax didn’t have that luxury. Either he pulled this off or his brother would bring him to his knees.

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