The Alpha's Retribution

Chapter 5: Gallup

JAXOM'S POV

The Ahtone’s trailer loomed in the distance, a full moon staring down from overhead. My feet led me steadily forward, swirls of red dust whipping up from the soles of my boots. There were no lights on in the house, and I could only assume that the family had turned in for the evening. The dogs were absent from the front porch, and the livestock slept soundly in their corrals.

Slowly, I made my approach, mounting the stairs before slipping silently through the open front door. With the well-wishers of yesterday long departed, the home appeared oddly hollow. The subfloor creaked ominously beneath my shifting weight, and the trailer itself seemed to sway as I crept down the hallway toward Trinity’s room.

As soon as I crossed the threshold, the sleeping girl began to stir, her lashes fluttering drowsily.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here to help you.” I lifted a finger to my lips and knelt down beside her, melting at the weary smile that greeted me.

“You came back for me.”

“Of course, I did. I'll always come back for you.”

My mate's eyes grew hooded as I stroked her hair, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her temple.

“You can’t rest yet, beautiful. We need to get you back into fighting shape."

Collecting her in my arms, I supported her head against my chest and rolled up my sleeve. My fangs extended and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

“Go ahead, drink. Everything's going to be okay,” I urged as red streams began to drip down from my wrist.

With a hesitant nod, Trinity pressed her velvety lips to my hungry skin and began to suck.

"That's it, drink now, Love," I dropped my head back with a groan.

Emboldened, my mate's hands rose to encircle my arm, and her mouth grew demanding. Blood gushed out from the corners of her lips, and I chuckled as she began to sputter and choke on the heavy stream.

“Easy there, sweetheart, don’t get too carried away.”

“Mmm, Warren,” she moaned, licking at my wound with the tip of her tongue.

A hair-raising chill brushed over my scalp. “What did you just call me?”

“Your name, silly,” Trinity giggled like I'd said something funny, the sound eerie and child-like. "You’re my mate, aren’t you, Warren?”

I stumbled to my feet in horror, catching my image in the mirror as I backed towards the door. The eyes of a predator gazed out from my reflection, blood pouring from the holes where my canines should have been.

I was a rogue, a rapist, a cursed wolf. I was Warren Nelson.

I jolted awake with a start, my body drenched in a sticky layer of sweat. Whether it was from the s****l nature of my dream or the copious amounts of alcohol I had drowned myself in the night before, I couldn’t say.

“Fuuuuck,” I groaned, palming my face as I dropped back on the bed. What a nightmare.

“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Eisen emerged from the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his shower-slicked hair. “You look like hell. We need to get going.”

“How are you even walking?” I croaked.

My brother’s tolerance for alcohol never ceased to amaze me. A lesser man would have found himself in the throes of liver failure years ago. Then again, my brother and I were far from normal men.

Eisen shrugged, striding across the room to the mini-fridge in the corner. Taking out a bottle of water, he turned and tossed it to me over his shoulder.

The warm plastic crinkled in my palm and I scrunched up my nose in distaste. “Is that thing even plugged in?”

“Don't know. Looks like it hit its prime back in the 70s."

“Fantastic,” I muttered, opening the top and gulping down its contents in one go. “Where the hell are we, anyway?”

“The Desert Lodge Motel.”

“Which is where?” I swiped the back of my hand across my moist lips.

“Gallup, New Mexico. You really don’t remember anything, do you?” Eisen chuckled as I lobbed the empty water bottle at him.

“Gallup? Why didn’t we just go back to Flagstaff?”

“We had to do a border sweep, anyway. Didn’t have much luck, though- Warren didn’t come this way. Most likely he cut up into Utah. I had one of my Gammas, Jess, meet us here last night with the car.”

“Yes, I know who Jess is, Eisen." Who could forget that she-wolf? Loud, overly familiar, overly opinionated, and stuck up my brother's self-righteous ass. I was glad I'd been too drunk to remember her presence. "That explains how we got here, but not why we stayed. Care to tell me why the King of Nevada and Arizona is shacked up in some roach-infested motel?”

“Because," he pulled back the blinds to a flood of harsh light, “the King of Nevada and Arizona passed out at the bar across the street, and the King's brother wasn’t going to lug his drunk ass any further than he had to. Any more questions, Your Royal Highness?”

I lifted a hand, squinting against the painful brightness, “Nope, duly noted.”

“Good, glad that's settled. Now, get up. There’s a gas station not far from here. We can grab you some Gatorade and aspirin on the way.”

“How about a little hair of the dog?” I suggested, a wave of nausea sweeping over me as I forced myself up into a sitting position.

It was going to be a long day, and after that mind f**k of a dream I’d had, I wasn’t too keen on spending it sober.

“You need to be clear-headed, Jaxom, for Trinity. I wouldn’t be surprised if her state deteriorated overnight. She’s going to have a rough go of things."

I grumbled under my breath but did as he said, tugging on the pair of jeans I'd left wadded up by the bathroom.

Eisen had been a boy of sixteen when Grace Smith was marked by Warren, and far less sheltered than I was. My mother, the pack Luna and Queen, had endeavored to keep me as far from the traumatized girl as etiquette would allow.

Such coddling had set poorly with my father, who firmly believed the Alpha family should present a united front of solidarity. Even so, his resolve eventually caved to my mother's wishes. Eisen, on the other hand, had seen it all. He knew better than me what the coming day would entail.

“Did you set a patrol around Trinity’s house last night?” I asked, the vividness of my dream leaving my frayed nerves on edge.

“Yes, Jaxom. You asked me that at least twenty times while you were working your way through a bottle of whiskey. Mattson and Brekker checked in with me this morning. They had nothing of note to report.”

“Right, sorry,” I returned stiffly, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck.

Eisen paused in his packing. “Hey, she’s going to be fine, all right? Let’s get a move on. The sooner we get there, the sooner Trinity can be healed.”

“Yeah, and the sooner she rejects me,” I mumbled, but my brother made no reply, hoisting his duffel over one shoulder as he walked to the door.

Eisen had always been the silent, brooding type, so I could only guess what he was thinking. I knew that his own mate’s rejection still felt raw, even three years later.

When Jada Harris left Flagstaff, she took a piece of my brother's heart with her. Something told me I’d be leaving Dennehotso in pieces, as well. The way things stood, it promised to be a s**t day for both of us.

For two and a half hours we drove in silence. By the time we reached the Ahtones' property, the sun was directly overhead and Donovan was seated outside on the front porch steps.

“Jaxom, just let me do the-”

But I was already out the door and halfway across the yard.

“Is she alright? Is she worse? What's happened?”

Donovan lifted his head from his hands, staring up at me blankly. All of the rage I had witnessed the previous day had drained from his face, replaced by a well of grief. Trinity’s father was losing all hope that his child would recover, and that scared me more than any display of temper.

“She's burning up, struggling to breathe. Every inhale grows more shallow. Nothing we try is working. The steam, the poultices...nothing...she's...” he trailed off, raking a trembling hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.

Without pausing to think, I took a knee before him, casting aside all royal pretense. “I know how to save Trinity, but I can only do that with your blessing. Please, Mr. Ahtone, let me help your daughter. You won’t understand this, but her life is precious to me.”

Donovan’s brow furrowed and his eyes studied me intently. I held his gaze unflinchingly.

“Will she...become one of you? A skinwalker?” He swallowed hard, bracing himself for the reality that his daughter would be lost to him either way.

“No,” I was quick to assure him. “It doesn’t work that way. Our kind is born into this world, the same as yours. Trinity will remain human. You have my word.”

In a halting, cautious motion, Donovan slowly extended his hand to me. I shook it firmly.

“Do what you can for my baby, but know this, skinwalker, if you hurt her- if you do anything to make her worse- your pack won’t make it out of Navajo Nation alive. Every gun from here to Window Rock is loaded with silver bullets. She dies on your watch, and you have my word, one of them will find its way straight through your heart.”