For the Blood of a Crow

by T. S. Joyce

  He was the luckiest sonofabitch in the world.

  He looked up to greet the dozen Red Dead Mayhem members he’d invited, but at the deafening cheer, he skidded to a stop on the concrete just outside the door. Holy shit, there was a whole crowd here.

  Stunned, Rike looked from face to face. Ramsey and the crows, the Two Claws Clan, the New Darby Clan, and even Bailey’s mom was here.

  They were clapping and cheering, but Rike couldn’t take his eyes off a mouse of a woman on the other side of Joanna. He couldn’t breathe. He knew her. He knew her.

  “Mom?” He began walking to her, all choked the fuck up. “Mom?” he asked louder.

  The tiny woman ran at him…just sprinted, her little pink floral dress trailing in the wind behind her. She hit him in the chest with a hug like a cannon. Rike grunted and held her tight. “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m okay. I’m okay,” she chanted. Mom eased back and cupped his cheeks, studied his face. She was bawling. “Joanna said you started remembering and you’d found Bailey again, and I couldn’t not come. I was trying to be patient and wait for you, but I couldn’t. I wanted to see your big day. I was there for the first one. I wanted to be here for this.”

  Rike touched her hair, now streaked with silver, and her cheek that now had wrinkles. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

  “Better than okay. Look.” She pointed to a tall, barrel-chested man with sunglasses and silver and black hair. He was standing stoically with his hands clasped in front of him. He was wearing a Harley button-up plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Tattoos covered both his arms. He looked country strong. “He’s mine,” Mom whispered. “I found me a lone wolf. They’re not all bad, but I think you’ve figured that out. He’s been good to me all this time. He kept me safe. The only thing missing in my life is you and Ethan.”

  “You ain’t missing me anymore,” Rike croaked out.

  He nodded to the man who had taken care of Mom all these years. He looked tough as nails, all scarred up like a fight-dog, but that giant man wiped his eyes under his sunglasses and gave Rike a nod back. And that little gesture, him being emotional for Mom seeing her boy again, that won Rike over. That lone wolf was fine by him.

  “Will you stand by me when we handfast again?” he asked her, squeezing her shoulders.

  Mom pursed her thin lips to stop the trembling and nodded jerkily. “I’d be honored, boy.” She cupped his cheeks again and shook him gently. “Look at you. You turned out so…”

  Bad? Disappointing? Like his father?

  Another tear streaked down her cheek, and she tried again. “You turned out so good.”

  Fuck. Rike tried to remember how to breathe. He was going to lose it right here in front of everyone. The boys were gonna give him so much shit after today.

  A weight lifted from his chest. Rike looked around, but Lucian was nowhere to be found. Moms goodness probably tasted like poison to that old ghost, just like Bailey did. Sure, Rike had the Blackwood blood in him, but he also had his mom in him. He had her goodness and the love of a good woman. He could do this—be the man he wanted to be. Because he had people to try for. He would be the best Second he could be for Ramsey, the best son he could be for Mom, and the best man he could be for his girl.

  So good.

  On his scarred-up insides, he wasn’t so good yet, but Rike was gonna work his ass off to be that someday.

  His people deserved the effort.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Windows down, warm breeze blowing through her curls, bright red sunglasses on her face, short-shorts and a Harley tank top, singing along with the radio at the top of her lungs…Bailey couldn’t even remember a time in her life when she felt this free, this happy.

  The cupcakes Vina had asked her to bring were sitting in the passenger seat of her truck in a plastic cake holder. She’d even buckled them up, because safety. She and Donna had made them this morning for a party at the community center, and the two dozen extras she’d put in the oven were for the boys after their meeting.

  The Clan had been in transition since she’d come into it. Half had left with Rike’s brother right before she’d come into the picture. That was hard on a Clan, so there had been a lot of meetings and hang-outs, trying to re-bond everyone. Ramsey had this, though. With Rike at his side, Red Dead Mayhem would be better than ever in no time. And she and Vina had become friends. Good friends. Vina was someone she trusted and texted all day with funny memes and jokes. Vina also talked about the real stuff with a deep emotional maturity that Bailey hadn’t seen in anyone she’d ever met before. She was one helluva woman, and Bailey was very proud to be in the same Clan with her, honored every time Vina told her, “You’re a good friend.”

  She held a long, off-key note like a howl as she turned into the clubhouse. But the second she rounded the corner, she gasped at all the cars and people.

  Coasting into her favorite spot along the curb in the back, she stared, open-mouthed at the crowd gathered in front of the closed garage doors. There was a massive arch of flowers with bows made of tulle with flowing trains of fabric moving in the wind. There were antique white lanterns hung in the trees outlining the parking lot.

  All the Clans she’d grown close to were here. All the people she’d learned to depend on as she had picked her way through being a lone wolf. The girls were dressed up, holding little bouquets of colorful wild flowers, dresses flowing in the breeze, not a dry eye between them as they stared at Rike, her Rike, hugging his mom.

  “Oh, my gosh,” Bailey whispered.

  She didn’t know what was happening, but whatever it was, it was huge.

  Stunned, she pushed open the door to her car and made her way to her friends, to her mate.

  Rike was smiling over his mom’s head at her. Bailey’s mom was here, too. She waved and asked, “What’s going on?

  Rike kissed the top of his mom’s head and then made his way to Bailey. “Do you remember when I gave you that little ring when we were kids? The cheap one that turned your finger green?

  “Yes,” she whispered, feeling the loss of it all over again. “I lost it. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, Little Wolf. Never be sorry. You didn’t mean to. It was just a thing. You always had what mattered, even when I didn’t remember. You always had me. Had my crow. He didn’t stop loving you just because you weren’t wearing my ring.” Rike dropped to both knees on the concrete and looked up at her. “When a crow chooses a mate, sometimes he wants to give her a gift. When I was a boy, I chose you, and then I forgot you.”

  Rike’s voice went rough as he reached into his back pocket. He pulled out a black velvet box and Bailey just…lost it, sobbing.

  “As a man,” he murmured, “I know exactly what it is to keep you. It’s a promise to take care of you. To protect you at all costs. To make you happy. To give you all the little crow eggs to hatch that you want.” He laughed thickly with her and shook his head. The smile faded from his lips, and his eyes were serious when he locked them on hers. “Choosing you is a promise to become the man you deserve. I’d be the luckiest man in the world if you would choose me back. Again.” He opened the box to reveal a silver band with a beautiful sparkling solitaire diamond.

  Bailey dropped down in front of him. Their knees were touching as she held out her left hand. He slipped it onto her finger, perfect fit, just like her and Rike.

  He’d once told her giving a trinket to a crow would mean something big, so she reached behind her neck, and unclasped the thin gold chain of her locket. And she offered it to him again, knowing exactly how important the gesture was this time. His smile as he took it was just as important as the air she breathed. Her heart beat for that look of happiness on his face.

  Beside them, Ram knelt down and laid two knives in sheaths beside them. The handle of one knife was dark and rough, while the other was smaller to fit Bailey’s hand and was made of a lighter wood, polished to shining.

  “I got you a dress,” Rike said, holding both of
her smooth, clean hands in his rough, tattooed ones. “It’s white with lace. Do you want to go put it on?”

  She was shaking so bad from happiness, clutching his hands because they were her lifeline right now. She shook her head. “I’ll put it on after. Don’t matter what I’m wearing right now. I’m ready.” She picked up the handle with the light wood and then pulled it from the sheath. The blade gleamed in the sunlight. And right there in the middle of the parking lot, surrounded by her friends and family, she turned his palm over and said, “Rike Blackwood, I choose you again. I’ll keep choosing you. I’ll always choose you.” She made her cut right over the one she’d made all those years ago.

  He didn’t even wince. Instead, he laughed thickly and picked up his own knife.

  “You said once you wanted me to make my last name a good one, and then I could share it with you. Today, my name is yours. Bailey Blackwood, I choose you again. I’ll keep choosing you. I’ll always choose you.” When he cut her, she was careful to keep the pain off her face.

  Around them, there were camera clicks and sniffles, but the second he intertwined his fingers with hers and let the blood of his crow and the blood of her wolf mix and fall to the concrete between their knees, the sound of clapping and cheering was deafening.

  Her laughter turned to happy crying as they were tackled from all sides by the Clans. With hugs, affection, and support. She just sat here, staring at her mate, looking so handsome in his black shirt, dancing eyes, and that electric smile that was a jolt to her heart every time he gave it. Her mate. With certainty, she knew she wouldn’t lose him again.

  “Rike, look,” Ram said from where he knelt beside them. He pointed up to the Red Dead Mayhem sign, the one with a big splattered red crow painted on it and a smaller moose outline at the bottom. Now there was something else, a white outline of a wolf right by the moose, its head thrown back like it was howling. White paint dripped down and pooled at the bottom of the sign. And sitting on the top ledge of the sign was a huge crow with a ring of white feathers around its neck like a noose.

  “Who is that?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  Rike swallowed hard and his voice thickened with emotion. “That’s my brother.”

  The crow cawed several times, glossy beak open wide, eyes on Rike, and then it stretched its wings and lifted off the sign. And then it flew away.

  Bailey rose up on her knees and hugged Rike to her. He rested his head on her chest and held her tight, their bleeding hands clutched between them.

  Going rogue was supposed to be the end of the world for a wolf, but look what had happened?

  Look what she had found?

  Her friends didn’t make sense in the shifter world. Animals usually stuck together with their species, but she’d somehow found her place with crows, bears, mountain lions, a squirrel and a moose. Her wolf had never wanted another wolf. She’d only seen a Blackwood crow, and that was that.

  Hard days would come. They still had the public to deal with and hadn’t figured out who’d bugged the clubhouse. She would have moments when she was sad about the Clan she left behind. Rike would still be haunted by the ghost of his father and would have to figure out his place as the right hand to the King of Crows. Life wouldn’t be easy, but it had never promised to be. All she could do was fill the space in between the hard times with such joy so that their life would be a happy one. Sure, parts of Rike were broken, but that was okay. The cracks in his soul were where she would pour her love into.

  She was the first Blackwood wolf, and she would wear the name proudly. She would help Rike make the name good.

  They would do it together.

  Always together.

  Up Next in this Series

  For the Pride of a Crow

  Coming July 2018

  For More of these Characters

  These characters can also be found in the Outlaw Shifters Series.

  Entire Series, Available Now

  For the Love of an Outlaw (Book 1)

  A Very Outlaw Christmas (Book 2)

  For the Heart of an Outlaw (Book 3)

  For the Heart of the Warmaker (Book 4)

  For the Soul of an Outlaw (Book 5)

  New Release Newsletter Sign-Up

  For new releases, exclusive sneak peeks, and giveaways, sign up for T. S. Joyce’s Bear Shifter Romance Newsletter HERE.

  More Series by T. S. Joyce

  Sons of Beasts

  Son of the Cursed Bear (Book 1)

  Son of Kong (Book 2)

  Son of the Dragon (Book 3)

  Red Havoc Panthers

  Red Havoc Rogue (Book 1)

  Red Havoc Rebel (Book 2)

  Red Havoc Bad Cat (Book 3)

  Red Havoc Guardian (Book 4)

  Red Havoc Bad Bear (Book 5)

  Harper’s Mountains

  Bloodrunner Dragon (Book 1)

  Bloodrunner Bear (Book 2)

  Air Ryder (Book 3)

  Novak Raven (Book 4)

  Blackwing Dragon (Book 5)

  Kane’s Mountains

  Blackwing Defender (Book 1)

  Blackwing Wolf (Book 2)

  Blackwing Beast (Book 3)

  Bears Fur Hire

  Husband Fur Hire (Book 1)

  Bear Fur Hire (Book 2)

  Mate Fur Hire (Book 3)

  Wolf Fur Hire (Book 4)

  Dawson Fur Hire (Book 5)

  Chance Fur Hire (Book 6)

  Saw Bears

  Lumberjack Werebear (Book 1)

  Woodcutter Werebear (Book 2)

  Timberman Werebear (Book 3)

  Sawman Werebear (Book 4)

  Axman Werebear (Book 5)

  Woodsman Werebear (Book 6)

  Lumberman Werebear (Book 7)

  Fire Bears

  Bear My Soul (Book 1)

  Bear the Burn (Book 2)

  Bear the Heat (Book 3)

  Gray Back Bears

  Gray Back Bad Bear (Book 1)

  Gray Back Alpha Bear (Book 2)

  Gray Back Ghost Bear (Book 3)

  Gray Back Broken Bear (Book 4)

  Lowlander Silverback (Book 5)

  Last Immortal Dragon (Book 6)

  Boarlander Bears

  Boarlander Boss Bear (Book 1)

  Boarlander Bash Bear (Book 2)

  Boarlander Silverback (Book 3)

  Boarlander Beast Boar (Book 4)

  Boarlander Cursed Bear (Book 5)

  For More Books from his Author

  Visit www.tsjoyce.com for a full reading list.

  About the Author

  T.S. Joyce is devoted to bringing hot shifter romances to readers. Hungry alpha males are her calling card, and the wilder the men, the more she'll make them pour their hearts out. She lives in a tiny town, outside of a tiny city, and devotes her life to writing big stories. Foodie, bear whisperer, ninja, thief of tiny bottles of awesome smelling hotel shampoo, nap connoisseur, movie fanatic, and zombie slayer, and most of this bio is true.

  Bear Shifters? Check

  Smoldering Alpha Hotness? Double Check

  Sexy Scenes? Fasten up your girdles, ladies and gents, it’s gonna to be a wild ride.

  For more information about T. S. Joyce and her work, visit her website here.