Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  “Too bad for you,” she said as she turned to the door. “Besides, I don’t date shifters...”

  The words rolled off her tongue before she could catch herself and she saw a flash of something in Bracken’s pale eyes. Anger? Disappointment? Something else?

  She tugged on the door, eager to escape, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Let me out,” she demanded.

  Bracken set down the whiskey glasses on his drawing table and Danika flinched slightly at the way they clicked against the hard surface.

  She could see his jaw working as he walked toward her and she moved out of the way as he turned the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

  “Walk carefully,” he said, and she could hear the edge of a growl in his voice.

  “Thanks for the drink,” she answered hastily as she slipped out the door and into the street.

  The cold air snatched the breath from her lungs and Danika shoved her hands into her pockets and pulled her puffy down jacket tighter around herself. She tried to forget what Bracken had said about other wild animals and walked as quickly as she could across the street toward her motel. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Bracken was watching her. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her neck.

  “You’re such a moron,” she muttered as she jumped up onto the high curb. All she wanted was to get back to her room, flop face down on the bed, and forget that today had happened. Had she always been a ride trainwreck, or was that new? Her head was cold... why was her head cold. Danika pulled a hand out of her pocket and touched her hair.

  Her beanie. She’d forgotten her goddamn hat at the tattoo shop—

  She let out a furious breath, rolled her eyes at her own stupidity, and stomped down the sidewalk. She wasn’t going back there.

  So much for starting over fresh.

  Chapter 6 - Bracken

  “What the fuck was that?”

  He leaned against the shop door and watched Danika march furiously down the street. Her dark hair bounced against her shoulders and he shook his head incredulously. Had he said something wrong?

  It was obvious, even to him, that she was hurting and needed someone to talk to. She had run away from something that had affected her deeply, and in some ways she was still running. Just like he was.

  He was also reeling from what she had told him. He’d tried to hide it, but his bear had roared loudly in his head when she’d said that her mate had cheated on her. That wasn’t how it worked. That wasn’t the way the call worked. When the mate the Great Mother had chosen for a shifter came into their lives, there was nothing else for them, no one else that would ever measure up... The call was eternal and impossible to ignore or deny.

  He had held himself back from sweeping her into his arms to hold her tightly. She should never have been treated that way, and his bear wanted to show that arrogant wolf a thing or two—

  But why... He didn’t feel like this about anyone else who had wandered into his shop over the years. He and Cassie had heard every sob story and every tragedy, but somehow this was different. She was different.

  Danika disappeared around the corner and he sighed heavily and let the shop door close. “Idiot,” he muttered. He had definitely said something wrong.

  Bracken picked up the whiskey glasses and balanced them in his palm as he closed the locker door on his impromptu bar and clicked the padlock shut. He was about to shut off the shop lights when something caught his eye. Something soft and pink lying in the shadow of his tattoo station.

  He set down the glasses and bent down to see what it was.

  A knitted beanie made of pale pink wool. All it needed was a pom-pom to make it ridiculous.

  “She forgot her damn hat,” he muttered.

  She’d be missing that hat in the morning. If she was as cold as she said she was... He rubbed a hand over his face and stood up. He had to take it back to her.

  Maybe he could go to Sal’s diner in the morning and talk to her, but that felt a little like stalking.

  Or the motel... She’d left a card, except that was even more like stalking.

  He gritted his teeth and stomped over to the front desk to pull out Cassie’s appointment book. The card was stapled to one of the lined pages next to Cassie’s absent-minded doodles. He ripped it off the page and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans.

  “It’ll just be a minute,” he rationalized aloud. “Take back her hat, and then leave her alone...”

  He looked down at his palm. When he’d touched her arm, he’d felt something. At least, he’d thought he’d felt something. An electric current running from his hand straight to his heart. But it was impossible.

  His family was notoriously stubborn when it came to the search for a mate, and he’d almost totally given up on it. He was happy enough alone, so what did it matter? And how the hell was he going to find a mate up here in the frozen north anyway?

  He closed his fingers around the soft woollen beanie and pulled the shop keys out of his pocket.

  Five minutes. Just five minutes. Give her the hat, come back, have a whiskey, and go the fuck to sleep.

  He strode across the shop, pulled open the door, and stepped out into the street.

  He still couldn’t understand why Danika was always complaining about the temperature; this spring was milder than he’d expected it to be, which meant that a short, hot summer was on its way. Short he could deal with, hot wasn’t his favorite.

  He locked the shop door and set off in the direction of the Alpine Motel with determined steps. He usually steered clear of the motel, the owner wasn’t partial to other bears, especially ones who didn’t ‘belong,’ but this was a special circumstance.

  “Five minutes. Deliver the hat, say goodnight, get back to the shop. Easy.”

  He swore that he could smell her as he followed her path down the street. It was ridiculous, but he could feel his bear’s agitation as he turned the corner and caught sight of the stylized green mountains of the Alpine Motel’s glowing sign.

  He pulled the card out of his pocket to check the room number she’d given and wondered if he should think of something to say—she’d left the shop on a bad note, and he didn’t want to look like a jerk...

  He stopped under a street light in the parking lot and ran a hand through his hair.

  “What the fuck is your deal, Quinn?” he muttered. He looked down at the knitted beanie in his hand. “Just give her back her damn hat—”

  “Hey!” a voice called out. He looked up in surprise to see Danika leaning out of an open window on the motel’s second floor. “Are you following me?”

  Her question might have been more of a challenge, but Bracken didn’t care.

  “No! You— You forgot—” He stopped, feeling like a moron for shouting at her from the parking lot.

  He shook his head and jogged over to the stairs; he took them two at a time to reach the second level and the door at the end of the building.

  #209.

  He raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles hit the scarred wood.

  Danika’s face appeared in the doorway and he swallowed thickly. Her expression was wary and her posture was guarded. He gritted his teeth slightly. He should have just gotten Cassie to take the damn hat over to The Golden Horn in the morning. Impulsive idiot.

  “What do you want?”

  She was dressed warmly for being indoors, and he could smell the tang of the ancient heater as it struggled to warm up in the room. She looked comfortable, but she probably didn’t know how her oversized sweater clung to her curves, or how the leggings she wore underneath accentuated the length of her legs... Her dark hair had been pulled into a knot on top of her head, and he could see the flicker of the TV behind her.

  “I—uh— You forgot your hat at the shop,” he blurted out, and then groaned inwardly at his lack of finesse.

  Danika raised an eyebrow. “I saw you in the parking lot.”

  He sighed heavily and held out th
e hat. “I thought you might want it in the morning. You never know when it might snow...”

  “Seriously?” She looked horrified as he nodded.

  “The Great Mother can be unpredictable,” he said with a shrug.

  “Remind me to get the number for the complaints department,” she muttered.

  Bracken chuckled. His mother would have been scandalized to hear the Great Mother mocked in such a casual way, but he liked it.

  “Anything else?” she said suddenly and Bracken realized that he was just... standing there.

  “No— I mean, yes.” He paused, trying to organize his thoughts as his bear paced in his head.

  Unhelpful brute.

  “I don’t want you to think that you did anything to deserve what your ex did,” he said in a rush. “What he did to you was bullshit. Not all shifters are like that—the call isn’t like that.”

  Danika smiled faintly and then shrugged. “I know, not all shifters, blah blah. Luckily for me, I don’t have to find out.” She lifted her beanie in a salute. “Thank you for bringing this back,” she said. “I owe you one.”

  The door started to close, and Bracken’s bear lunged in his mind.

  “A date,” he blurted out.

  The door stopped moving and one of Danika’s deep blue eyes appeared again as she half-opened the door.

  “What?”

  “You said you owed me one... How about a date?”

  The door opened a little wider and she laughed shortly. “A date...You do know that’s just an expression, right? ‘I owe ya one,’ as in, thanks for the favor, maybe I’ll repay it someday, but will most likely forget—”

  Bracken smiled. “No dice. You’re new in town, I can show you a few things. There’s more to Anchorage than The Golden Horn and my tattoo shop. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

  Danika narrowed her eyes at him and then shrugged. “Fine. Whatever. I have Monday off—”

  Bracken’s heart lurched strangely in his chest, but he swallowed hard and pushed it away. “Great. Monday at six. Come by the shop...”

  Danika nodded. “Six. Got it.” She lifted her hat again and waved it at him. “Thanks again for this. It was the first thing I bought when I got here. I thought my ears were going to fall off when I stepped off the plane.”

  Bracken chuckled. “My pleasure,” he replied.

  She smiled briefly and then the door closed.

  “Goodnight,” he said softly before he turned away and forced himself to walk down the stairs to the parking lot.

  A date.

  Monday.

  Three days away.

  “You ass,” he muttered as his boots thudded on the stairs. “What are you going to do now?”

  He spilled the beans to Cassie the next morning and she had been nothing but unhelpful from that moment onward.

  Those three days swept by like a summer wildfire and, much to Cassie’s visible amusement, Bracken spent most of it panicking. It didn’t help matters that she insisted on fetching their coffee and lunches from Sal’s every day, and he had no doubt that she had been collecting information with each visit. The female conspiracy—that was what his paranoid, and intensely single, brother called it.

  “So... which world renowned outdoor activity will you be taking her on? One of the stunning National Park hikes, perhaps? She totally looks like a hiker...” Cassie grinned at him from behind her coffee cup.

  “Shut up,” he growled.

  Cassie’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, I know,” she said excitedly, “maybe that smoked salmon and deer sausage tasting thing...”

  Bracken slammed down the tattoo machine he had been working on. “Look, I’ve had just about enough—”

  Cassie’s smile widened as his voice trailed away. “You haven’t made any plans, have you?”

  He looked down at the tattoo machine and threw his Leatherman down beside it.

  “Ha!” she crowed. “I knew it! All the balls in the heat of the moment, but no follow up.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Cassie raised her hands and laughed. “Sorry, Bossman, just an observation. Lemme guess. You just... blurted it out, didn’t you?”

  Bracken nodded and leaned back in his chair. He looked up at the ceiling and rubbed his hands over his face. “Yes,” he admitted into his palms.

  “What? I didn’t hear that?”

  “I said yes!” he repeated louder. He sat up and crossed his arms over his chest. “I just... I just babbled. What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  Cassie leaned against the counter and looked at him with a serious expression on her face for once. “What does your bear think?”

  Bracken blinked at her. “I... Actually... I think he’s ok with it.” The big ice bear in his mind grunted approvingly.

  “Hm... Well, I can’t give you any insight there. Maybe just take her for a nice dinner? What about the harbor cruise?”

  “I’m not getting on a boat.”

  “But their poached salmon is SOOO good,” Cassie argued. “Even if you don’t like it, she will! What the hell else is there to do in this town after six except get drunk at Northern Lights?” Bracken shifted in his chair and Cassie looked at him with a suspiciously raised eyebrow. “Please tell me that wasn’t your plan.”

  “I mean, you said she didn’t look like a hiker... And I’m not paying for dinner on that fucking barge.”

  Cassie groaned and looked up at the ceiling. “Give me strength,” she muttered before she looked back at him with an accusing stare. “Look. I know you guys don’t have to try as hard as humans with this... ‘mating’ thing.” Cassie waved her hands meaningfully and groaned again as she saw his blank stare. “Us? We have to actually put in some effort. If you’re trying to show her a good time, watery beer from the Lights is not the way to do it. If you’re being a good friend and helping her to feel more connected to the community, sure, great plan. One of the boys, blah, blah.” She sighed and shook her head. “You already told me that this was a date. She called it a date.”

  Bracken straightened up in his chair. “She did?”

  Cassie let out a frustrated breath. “You are so totally going to have to try harder than this,” she said. “Nikka is a Southern girl who ran away from a super rich guy who gave her literally everything—”

  “You’re not helping,” Bracken muttered.

  Cassie shrugged. “All I’m saying, is that you might want to re-think this a little.”

  Bracken looked at the clock and back to Cassie. “Well, thanks... I could have used all of this very helpful information yesterday... or maybe the day before... Not an hour before she’s supposed to show up.”

  Cassie shrugged. “I’m just giving you my unsolicited advice,” she said with a smile.

  “You’re the worst,” he muttered.

  “Yes. Yes, I believe I am,” Cassie sang out as she walked through the shop door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t dooooo!”

  Bracken shook his head and looked down at his boots. Boots, black jeans, black shirt—Cassie always teased him about his ‘uniform,’ but it was honestly all he owned. He looked up at the clock again. Danika would be at the shop in less than an hour. He had time to shower and trim his beard. And change into another black shirt...

  He shook his head ruefully and got up to lock the shop door.

  “This can’t be the only bar in town...” Danika’s expression was guarded and Bracken wondered if she had been talking to Cassie.

  “No,” he admitted. “But they play decent music and the beer isn’t watered down like at the tourist bars.... And Tristan doesn’t skimp on the maraschino cherries.”

  Danika looked at him strangely but didn’t ask him how he knew that, which was a good thing, because the story that went with it wasn’t flattering for anyone involved.

  He cleared his throat and laid a hand on the door. 90s rock vibrated against his palm and he smiled at the skeptical woman standing next to him. “Ready?”

  “I guess,�
� she replied.

  Good enough.

  Bracken pushed open the door and held it open as she walked ahead of him into the bar’s poorly lit interior.

  Northern Lights was a simple establishment with a stereotypically sticky floor, a few battered pool tables, and the aroma of stale beer and cheap cologne in the air. It was also populated with every kind of northern shifter who called Anchorage home. There were other bars in town that catered to just shifters, but Lights was equal opportunity—at least, most of the time.

  The bartender was human, and a few of the fishermen and loggers at some of the tables were, too.Not many, but enough that he hoped Danika wouldn’t feel too out of place.

  But she was out of place. She wasn’t the only human female in the place, but she may as well have been by the way the other shifters sat up when she walked into the bar.

  Bracken’s bear set up a low rumbling growl in the back of his mind that he did his best to ignore. He couldn’t do anything about the stares and sidelong glances—Danika was gorgeous.

  Her skin seemed to be naturally sun-burnished and her dark hair fell over her shoulder in a thick braid. She was dressed casually, and was buried in several layers of warm clothing, but she moved like someone who was used to wearing expensive fabrics and big-name brands that didn’t really exist above the 49th Parallel.

  From what she’d already told him, it was obvious that coming to Anchorage had been a chance at a new life, and he didn’t want to fuck that up for her—or himself.

  It felt odd, the surge of protectiveness that lunged forward as he followed Danika to the bar.

  “Popular place,” she said as they stood together and waited for the platinum-haired bartender to notice them.

  “Hey, Cecile,” he said as she turned toward them. The older woman’s eyes widened as she saw Danika beside him. Her mate, Tristan, owned the Northern Lights, and Cecile had been in Anchorage for longer than Bracken had been alive— You had to respect that kind of dedication to a place.

  “Why, Bracken Quinn,” she said with a knowing smile, “who might this be?” She pointed at Danika and Bracken shrugged slightly.