Page 6 of Alpha’s Vow (Copper Canyon Shifters #3)
CHAPTER 6
SABLE
L as Vegas shimmered under the dying sun, a city cloaked in a garish haze of neon lights and pulsing shadows. For every glittering casino and lavish display, there was an alley thick with menace, a predator waiting in the dark. Sable moved with purpose through the chaos, her keen wolf senses peeling back the layers of noise and movement that overwhelmed most. The clatter of coins, bursts of laughter, and car horns dulled her focus. She wasn’t here for the lights or the spectacle. She was here to hunt.
Her prey, Markson, had slipped her grasp once before. Tonight, he wouldn’t be so lucky.
Tugging the brim of her hat lower, Sable blended into the swirl of tourists and gamblers. She didn’t stand out—not here. The denim jacket and cowboy boots she wore were a dime a dozen in the desert city, and that suited her just fine. Beneath her jacket, the hilt of a blade pressed reassuringly against her ribs. It wasn’t for show.
Her mind drifted to the night of the massacre, as it often did when she got too close to a target. The screams, the coppery tang of blood, her brother’s silver wolf crumpling to the ground, still haunted her. Rage stirred deep in her chest, but she smothered it. Rage without control was reckless, and recklessness got you killed. She needed to be sharp, calm. Her pack’s memory deserved nothing less.
Markson was here. The leads she’d followed over the past week had led her straight to this den of corruption. He wasn’t just a cog in the machine of the operation that had destroyed her family—he was a lynchpin. And Sable would pull that pin tonight.
She turned down a narrow street, the sound of slot machines fading into the distance. The transition was stark, from the bustling glitz of the Strip to the muted sound of the side streets, where the air reeked of motor oil and desperation. At the end of the block, the faint buzz of a neon sign flickered above a dingy bar. It wasn’t much to look at—a battered door, a single light bulb casting a jaundiced glow over the entrance—but Sable knew better than to trust appearances. This was the place.
Markson had been spotted here, holding meetings and conducting business too risky for the bright lights and ever-present cameras of the Strip. Sable paused outside the door, her sharp eyes scanning the windows. The glass was too grimy to see through, but muffled voices carried over the din of a jukebox. She drew in a deep breath, catching the faintest trace of Markson’s scent—leather, sweat, and cheap cigars.
Her wolf stirred, its instincts bristling with anticipation. This is it , she thought, her pulse quickening. She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The bar was dimly lit, its atmosphere heavy with the stench of cigarette smoke and spilled beer. The patrons were a rough-looking crowd, hunched over their drinks or murmuring quietly in corners. Sable let the door swing shut behind her and walked toward the bar, her boots clicking softly against the sticky floor. She didn’t need to look directly at the booth in the back to know Markson was there. His presence prickled at her senses like a splinter under her skin.
Sliding onto a stool at the bar, she signaled to the bartender with a flick of her fingers. The wiry man approached, his crooked smile doing little to put her at ease.
“What’ll it be?” he asked, wiping a glass with a rag that looked like it hadn’t seen soap in weeks.
“Whiskey. Neat,” Sable replied, her tone flat.
He poured her drink and slid it across the bar. She wrapped her fingers around the glass but didn’t drink, using it as an excuse to stay still while her eyes scanned the room. Markson’s low, gravelly voice carried over the buzz of conversation, confirming his location. He was deep in conversation with another man—a wiry, nervous-looking type who kept glancing toward the entrance.
“…shipment’s delayed,” Markson was saying, his irritation clear. “Two days at most.”
The nervous man nodded quickly. “And the… other problem?”
Markson’s jaw tightened. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. But if she keeps poking around, we’ll deal with her.”
Sable’s grip on the glass tightened, her wolf snarling at the threat. They knew she was hunting them. Good. Let them feel hunted.
Keeping her movements casual, she slipped off the stool and began making her way toward the back of the bar. Her heart pounded, adrenaline sharpening her focus as she wove between tables. Her fingers brushed the hilt of the blade beneath her jacket, a steady reminder of her purpose.
She was nearly within reach when a familiar voice stopped her cold.
“Not here, Sable.”
Her stomach sank, the low timbre of Bryce Savage’s voice cutting through her like a blade. She turned, her hazel eyes narrowing as she met his dark, steady gaze. He stood just behind her, his towering frame blocking her path, his arms crossed in a stance that was equal parts calm and unyielding.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, her voice low and sharp.
“Stopping you from getting yourself killed,” Bryce replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. “You can thank me later.”
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped, her anger flaring. “This isn’t your fight.”
Bryce’s jaw ticked, his dark eyes glinting with frustration. “It is now.”
Her gaze darted toward the booth, where Markson’s conversation had slowed. “He’s right there, Bryce. I can’t let him walk away again.”
“And you won’t,” Bryce said, his voice softening slightly. “But not like this. You don’t know who else is in here or how many are waiting outside.”
Sable clenched her fists, her wolf snarling at the restraint he was forcing on her. “You don’t understand...”
“I do,” Bryce interrupted, stepping closer. “I understand better than you think. But if you rush in now, you’ll lose your chance. And I’m not letting you throw your life away.”
Their eyes locked, the bond between them vibrating like a live wire. Sable wanted to argue, to push past him and finish what she’d started, but the quiet determination in his gaze stopped her.
Markson stood, tossing a few bills onto the table before making his way toward the exit. Sable tensed, every muscle in her body screaming to act, but Bryce’s hand on her arm held her back.
“Not here,” he said firmly. “Not now.”
Her breath hitched as Markson disappeared through the door, the opportunity slipping through her fingers. She yanked her arm free, rounding on Bryce with a glare. “You had no right...”
“I had every right,” Bryce interrupted, his tone calm but unyielding. “You’re not alone in this, Sable. Whether you like it or not, we do this together.”
She stared at him, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Stay out of my way, Bryce.”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near growl. “Not a chance.”
For a moment, the energy between them sparked and crackled, the intensity of their unspoken connection pressing down on them both. Then, without another word, Sable turned and stormed out of the bar, her resolve hardening once more.
The hunt wasn’t over. And next time, nothing would stop her. Not even Bryce.
Las Vegas blurred past the window of Sable’s truck, the neon glow fading into a haze as she sped down the highway. The endless desert stretched out before her, barren and unforgiving, a fitting reflection of her mood. The city’s noise and chaos had been a distraction, one she didn’t need. What she needed was clarity—and space. Bryce’s interference had made sure she had neither.
Her hands tightened on the wheel, her jaw clenched as she replayed their confrontation in the bar. Bryce’s towering presence, the quiet dominance in his voice, the way his eyes had locked onto hers with infuriating certainty—it all lingered in her mind like an unwelcome echo.
“You’re not alone in this,” he’d said, his words laced with both promise and warning. She’d wanted to shove him, to claw her way free of his overbearing protectiveness, but the truth was harder to face.
When some of her anger had cooled, she had to admit he’d stopped her from making a mistake.
Sable exhaled sharply, her frustration bubbling over. Markson had been right there. She could’ve ended him, taken one more step toward justice for her family. But Bryce had interfered, throwing her plans into chaos with his relentless need to insert himself into her life.
“Damn him,” she muttered under her breath, the words swallowed by the purr of the engine.
Her wolf stirred uneasily, the bond between her and Bryce drumming in the back of her mind like a faint heartbeat. It wasn’t just his interference that unsettled her—it was the way he’d looked at her, as if he understood the storm inside her. As if he cared.
She didn’t want his understanding. She didn’t need his help. She’d managed to rise from the ashes of her old life and survive on her own. She wasn’t about to let anyone—especially Bryce Savage—derail her mission.
The distant glow of a gas station sign pulled her from her thoughts. She pulled into the lot, her truck rumbling to a stop beside the pumps. The air was cool and dry, the quiet of the desert night broken only by the glare of fluorescent lights. As she filled the tank, her gaze flicked to the diner across the lot, its windows glowing softly.
She wasn’t hungry, but her instincts told her to go inside. It was the same feeling that had kept her alive so far—a whisper in her gut that pointed her toward what she needed, even when she didn’t know why.
Inside, the diner was nearly empty, the faint smell of coffee and grease hanging in the air. A lone waitress stood behind the counter, her tired smile directed at Sable as she slid into a booth near the back.
“Coffee?” the waitress asked, already pouring a cup.
Sable nodded. “Thanks.”
The coffee was hot and bitter, but it steadied her as she pulled out her notebook, the pages filled with scrawled notes and names. Markson was only one piece of the puzzle. The hunters’ network was larger than she’d anticipated, a tangled web of connections and operations that spread across state lines.
She flipped to the most recent page, where she jotted down the names she’d overheard at the bar. One stood out: Jansen. He was one of the higher-ups, a man who coordinated logistics for the hunters. If she could find him, she could uncover the broader operation—and take it apart from the inside.
Her pen hovered over the page as she mapped out her next steps. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard the name Jansen. She’d learned he frequented a small town near the Arizona border, where a ranch served as a front for the hunters’ activities. It was remote, the kind of place where people didn’t ask questions. Perfect for their purposes—and hers.
Sable’s resolve hardened. She would go there, find Jansen, and dismantle his operation. One step closer to justice. One step closer to closure.
The bell above the diner door jingled, and Sable’s wolf bristled. Her instincts sharpened, the bond with Bryce vibrating faintly in her mind. She tensed, expecting to see him stride in, his dominance filling the small space. But it wasn’t Bryce. A man in a dusty hat and worn boots shuffled to the counter, his shoulders hunched.
Sable exhaled, the knot in her chest easing slightly. She was seeing ghosts now, her focus clouded by Bryce’s unwelcome presence in her life. She couldn’t afford to let him distract her.
As she paid for her coffee and left the diner, the cold night air hit her like a slap. She stood for a moment beside her truck, staring out at the dark expanse of desert. The stars above were sharp and endless, their light casting faint shadows on the ground.
Bryce’s voice echoed in her mind again: You’re not alone in this.
She shook her head, climbing into the truck and slamming the door. “I am alone,” she muttered. “And that’s how it has to be.”
The engine roared to life, and she pulled back onto the highway, her focus shifting to the road ahead. She had a name, a location, and a plan. That was all she needed.
The drive to the Arizona border was long and uneventful, the monotony of the road giving her too much time to think. The memories she tried to bury surfaced unbidden, sharp and relentless.
She could still hear her mother’s voice, soft and steady, as she guided the pack through the wilderness. The way her brother had always joked, his laughter carrying through the trees. The warmth of their presence, the strength of their bond.
And then, the crack of gunfire. The scent of blood in the snow. The desperate, anguished howls that had been silenced one by one.
Sable gripped the wheel tighter, her knuckles white. The pain of that day never dulled; it sharpened her, honed her resolve into something unbreakable. She would carry that pain with her, channel it into every step she took toward justice.
The faint glow of the town appeared on the horizon, a cluster of lights in the middle of nowhere. Sable slowed as she approached, her wolf instincts prickling with caution. She parked her truck on the outskirts, near an abandoned barn, and surveyed the area.
The ranch was easy to spot—a sprawling property surrounded by a chain link fence topped with razor wire and security lights. Finding a dark portion of fence line that wasn’t covered by the lights, Sable used fence cutters to open a section of fence and slipped through. Trucks were parked in a neat line near the main building, their beds loaded with crates—illicit cargo of some kind?
Sable’s lips curved into a grim smile. She’d found them.
She reached for her blade, the feel of it familiar and reassuring in her hand. Tonight, she would take the first step toward dismantling the hunters’ network. She would strike hard and fast, leaving no room for them to regroup.
But as she moved toward the shadows, her wolf stirred uneasily, the bond with Bryce humming faintly in the back of her mind. She ignored it, pushing the sensation aside. Bryce wasn’t here. He couldn’t stop her this time.
Sable crouched in the underbrush, her eyes fixed on the ranch’s back door. Her fingers brushed the hilt of the knife strapped to her thigh, the cold steel a comfort against her skin. Tonight, justice would be served. The door creaked open, and Markson stumbled out, looking like he was heading to where the vehicles were parked. Sable tensed, her pulse quickening as she watched him stop, turn and then weave toward the tree line, muttering to himself. His balance was off, his steps unsteady, and she could see the bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, half-empty and forgotten as he lumbered deeper into the shadows.
He stopped at a tree, fumbling with his belt as he cursed under his breath. As she closed in on him, the sound and stench of urine hit her senses, and Sable’s lip curled in disgust. She waited, her muscles coiled, her breath slow and steady. This was her moment.
When Markson turned around, zipping his pants with a drunken smirk, his bloodshot eyes met hers. He froze, the smirk sliding off his face as he registered the figure standing a few feet away, cloaked in shadow.
“Finally,” she breathed.
Markson squinted, swaying slightly as he tried to focus. “Who the hell…?”
His words trailed off as she stepped closer, the moonlight illuminating her face. Recognition flickered in his bloodshot eyes, followed quickly by fear.
“You,” he slurred, his voice thick with alcohol and panic. “You’re...”
“I am,” she snarled, her knife already in her hand.
He stumbled back, but there was no fear in his stance. Clearly he thought she was inferior and that he needn’t call for help.
“Just tell me why,” she growled, her wolf surging beneath her skin.
Markson’s expression twisted into something between a sneer and a grimace. “Why? Because you and your kind are an abomination to humans and animals alike. We won’t stop until we’ve killed every last one of you shifters.”
Sable’s chest tightened, but she didn’t waver. “We never did anything to you. They were my family, and you took them from me.”
He laughed, a bitter, broken sound. “I didn’t take anything. I was just following orders.”
“Hiding behind orders doesn’t absolve you.”
Markson’s eyes darted around, but the trees loomed tall and impenetrable, and Sable was faster. He lunged suddenly, his whiskey bottle swinging in a clumsy arc, but she sidestepped with ease, her reflexes honed by years of survival.
Markson pulled a knife from his belt and lunged again, his blade flashing, but Sable moved faster. She ducked under his swing, driving her shoulder into his chest and sending him sprawling to the ground. He groaned, rolling onto his side as she advanced, her steps measured and unrelenting.
“You’re not walking away from this,” she said, her voice calm and cold.
He scrambled to his feet, blood dripping from the cut on his arm, his knife shaking in his grip. “You think this changes anything? You kill me, and they’ll still come for you.”
“Let them,” she said, her eyes blazing. “I’ll be waiting, but you’ll be dead.”
He lunged again, his movements desperate and wild, but she was ready. Her blade met his, the clash of steel echoing through the trees. They grappled, his strength fueled by adrenaline and hatred, but Sable’s precision and focus were unmatched. She twisted her body, driving her knee into his stomach, and he doubled over with a grunt.
In one fluid motion, she slipped behind him, her arm wrapped around his neck as she pressed the blade against his ribs. He froze, his breaths ragged and shallow.
Markson gasped, his eyes wide as he struggled against her grip. “Please,” he choked out, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this.”
Sable’s grip tightened, her voice a low growl in his ear. “Neither did you.”
With a final surge of strength, she drove the knife between his ribs, the blade slipping straight into his heart. Markson stiffened, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his body sagged against hers.
“For my family,” she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion as she pulled the blade free.
Markson crumpled to the ground, his lifeless eyes staring up at the moonlit sky. Sable stood over him, her breath coming in sharp bursts as the adrenaline began to fade. The forest was silent once more.
She needed to move before any of the others came looking for him. One of the men who had helped destroy her family was gone, but the hollow ache in her chest remained. Justice had been served, but peace still felt distant.
Wiping the blade on her pant leg, she turned toward her truck, her shoulders stiff. The hunt wasn’t over, not yet. There were others, and she would find them. One by one. Sable allowed herself a moment to grieve—not just for her family, but for the part of herself she had lost in the pursuit of vengeance.