Wild Bond (Crimson Hollow #5)

Chapter One

It might’ve been the cold, or maybe prison, squirming ghostlike at the edge of his mind, but Alex just kept shivering, wedged behind a tree, eyes fixed on the house. He held his breath. Waited.

The place was clear.

All that was left was to sneak back in and find his wallet. His golden ticket. The only way he might be able to scrape even halfway free of this mess.

Well. Not free. Not really. He still had Drew’s death on his hands.

He’d killed a guy.

No one could undo that.

It was a fact stamped on his bones now, making him nauseous if he let it slip into the foreground.

“I’m a killer,” he whispered, seconds away from vomiting. So you can leave more DNA at the crime scene?

Alex hunched, staying tight behind the trees, scanning the yard again. Nobody. He crept out of the bushes, snagged a foot on a root—almost went flying, but didn’t—and then hurried for the crummy rental with its peeling paint, the place he’d been lured to like a mouse to a trap.

Lured. There was no other word for it.

If he could get his wallet back, maybe he’d never have to see what the inside of a prison cell looked like.

Pro: No prison jumpsuit. No humans finding out he wasn’t.

Con: Valcore would drag things out, make it slow for Alex, before finishing the job. And Alex knew he would. He wasn’t kidding himself. The demon wouldn’t hesitate to end him.

Refocus. Double-check the world outside. Nothing. No one. It’s time. But he hesitated.

Don’t think about how easy it is for people to disappear in the mountains. Just get the wallet. Get out.

“I’m so fucked.”

Drew, the charming bastard, had lured Alex there. Every detail—the location, the timing, the suggestion they meet up—it had all been about tying up loose ends, about offing Alex like an epic finale. Alex had been milliseconds away from tasting death.

With a thudding pulse, he darted for the front door, trying to slip beneath the arc of the porch light, sticking to every shadow. He was lucky. Night had fallen, so he didn’t have to hide out in the soggy woods for hours.

If only he could shift. But the magic collar around his neck prevented his bunny from getting free.

He grabbed the doorknob. Locked. Of course it was locked. What genius expected an open door after fleeing a murder scene? He pictured the cops in there, securing the scene, finding the wallet, maybe even taking bets on whether he was even alive or on the lam.

Alex held onto hope anyway.

That, inside, some miraculous stroke of luck was waiting for him. But nope. Absolutely not. How would he find hope if he couldn’t even get inside?

Glancing around, he made sure nobody was watching then slipped along the edge of the house, pebbles crunching underfoot like brittle bones.

Will you stop thinking about death?

Damn it! The bedroom window—the same escape route he’d used before, was locked tight. Now all he had left was the slap of humiliation and the creeping edge of panic.

No wallet.

No cash.

No friends.

Just the cold and that gnawing ache in his stomach.

Maybe jail wouldn’t be so bad. At least they fed you and threw in a cot.

Was that pathetic? He actually laughed at himself, a miserable, bitter huff.

“You think the jail’s a Motel 6, dipshit?

Turn yourself in, they’ll stick you in a cell and throw away the key.

” Then discover he wasn’t aging. Not like a human would.

Why the hell had he trusted Drew in the first place? Drew and his crooked half-smile, eyes that sparkled with trouble. Alex should’ve known. Pretty boys like Drew didn’t end up with guys like him.

It was some kind of cosmic law.

But then, out of nowhere, a thought struck him. What if there was a café in town? All Alex had to do was find one, charge his dead phone, and ping his wallet’s location in two seconds flat.

Easy. Just like that, a trickle of hope wormed its way in.

He set off for the road, hugging himself against the cold, his boots barely making a sound in the darkness. The shuffle, the hope, the pathetic little need to get back what was his.

Coffee shop, coffee shop, coffee shop. He wandered, searching every block, peering into the fuzzy glow of windows. And when he finally spotted one, for a second, Alex almost yelled in relief.

Then reality popped his happy balloon. The café was closed for the night. Lights out. Sign flicked to CLOSED in block letters.

Crap.

Another night outside? Just the thought made his stomach sink. Last night he’d crashed in the woods, tangled up with the undergrowth, trying to convince himself a pile of leaves made a good enough blanket. Even in his bunny form, with a coat of white fur, Alex had been freezing.

Now what?

With no wallet, and no other option, Alex trudged back toward the woods.

His stomach rumbled, a low, embarrassing sound, and the scent from the diner drifted over like it meant business.

It stopped him in front of the glass door, staring at the linoleum and the clatter and, somewhere, the promise of food.

Food he could almost taste.

He had just about convinced himself to walk away—totally normal, nothing to see here, definitely not a guy with no money just lurking on the sidewalk—when the door shoved open.

A guy strode out, letting a waterfall of warm air and grilled meat and French fries tumble over Alex.

And coffee, a sharp, dark scent that wrapped around him, squeezing all the way to his hollow gut.

Without thinking, he spun back around, inhaling deeply, trying to capture some tiny molecule of satisfaction from the aromas alone.

But what he got was something else. Something wild. Earthy.

Wolf.

His bunny instincts screamed danger, but the magic collar kept his animal trapped, leaving only his human reactions, which apparently included standing frozen like an idiot as the stranger approached.

The guy moved closer, his stride confident but unhurried. Something in his expression shifted when their eyes met. An odd look, as if he’d been struck by something invisible.

“You lost?” The stranger’s voice was deep, rough-edged.

“Just hungry,” Alex replied like the truth was bleeding out of him.

There was a pause. A long one. Then finally, “Name’s Wade,” the man said, offering a hand.

Alex hesitated before accepting the handshake. Wade’s palm was warm, callused, and the contact sent an unexpected jolt up his arm.

Holy shit.

The realization crashed over him with the subtlety of a wrecking ball. This wasn’t just any wolf shifter. This was his mate. His actual, universe-designated, cosmic-joke-of-a-mate.

Because, of course, the universe would pair a bunny with a wolf. The cosmos had a sick sense of humor, like fate itself was trolling him.

Alex’s stomach chose that moment to emit a growl loud enough to be heard in the next county. Mortifying.

Wade’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “Hungry, huh? Want to grab dinner?” He gestured toward the diner with his thumb. “I already ate, but I wouldn’t mind keeping you company.”

Alex patted his empty pockets. “Thanks, but I’m broke. Unless they take pocket lint as payment.”

“My treat,” Wade said, holding the door open. Warmth spilled out from the diner, carrying aromas of fried onions and grilled meat that made Alex’s empty stomach contract painfully.

“I don’t need charity,” Alex muttered, even as his body betrayed him by stepping toward the doorway. Pride was a luxury he couldn’t afford right now, but it still stung to accept handouts.

“Not charity. Call it my good deed for the day.” Wade’s smile was crooked, one side lifting higher than the other. Something about it seemed genuine, not the practiced kind that usually came with ulterior motives.

Alex weighed his options, which took approximately half a second because… food versus no food. His survival instincts overrode his pride.

“All right,” Alex conceded. “But I’m ordering the cheapest thing on the menu.”

“Order whatever you want.”

Inside, the diner buzzed with late evening activity. Silverware clinked against ceramic plates, conversations hummed at a comfortable volume, and somewhere a coffee machine hissed. The fluorescent lights felt harsh after hours in the darkness, making Alex blink as his eyes adjusted.

Wade led him to a booth near the back, sliding in across from Alex with easy familiarity, as if they’d done this a hundred times before. The vinyl seat squeaked under the man’s weight.

“So,” Wade began, those dark eyes studying him with uncomfortable intensity, “want to tell me why you’re wandering around town looking like you crawled out of a ditch?”

“Because I basically did.” Alex attempted a smile but suspected it looked more like a grimace. “I’m…between living situations at the moment.”

“Homeless,” Wade clarified, no judgment in his voice.

Alex hesitated. “Yeah. For now.” Better than admitting he’d fled a murder scene, leaving behind both his wallet and a cooling corpse. But it wasn’t entirely a lie. He was homeless considering the cops could be watching his place.

“Where’d you sleep last night?”

“Five-star accommodations in the local woods,” Alex replied dryly. “Very exclusive. The leaves make excellent blankets if you don’t mind waking up with bugs in your hair. But the view of the stars can’t be beat.”

A waiter approached, coffee pot in hand, his tired eyes brightening slightly at the sight of Wade.

“Back again? You must really love our pie,” he said, filling Wade’s empty mug without asking.

“Best in three counties,” Wade replied. “My friend here needs a menu. And coffee.”

The waiter—Dorian, according to his name tag—gave Alex an assessing look before setting down another mug. His gaze lingered on Alex’s disheveled appearance, the mud on his jeans, but said nothing as he poured the coffee and slid a laminated menu across the table.

“Thanks,” Alex mumbled, wrapping his cold fingers around the warm mug. The heat penetrated his chilled skin, a small comfort that felt disproportionately wonderful.

“Order whatever you want,” Wade repeated once Dorian had moved to another table.

Alex studied the menu, calculating which item would provide the most calories for the least cost. “Just a burger is fine.”

“And fries. And maybe a slice of that pie he mentioned.” Wade’s voice left little room for argument. “You look like you could use the calories.”

“What are you, my nutritionist?” The words came out harsher than Alex intended, but hunger and exhaustion had worn his social filter thin.

Wade just laughed, a surprisingly pleasant sound. “No, but I know what it’s like to be hungry.”

Something in his tone made Alex look up from the menu. Wade’s expression was unreadable, but for a moment, Alex glimpsed something behind those dark eyes. A shared understanding that made his chest tighten with recognition.

When Dorian returned, Wade gestured for Alex to order first.

“Cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake,” Alex said, abandoning his plan to order the cheapest item. If this was his one shot at a decent meal, he was going all in.

“Just coffee for me,” Wade added.

When the waiter left, Wade leaned forward slightly. “You can crash at my place tonight.”

Alex nearly choked on his water. “What?”

“Unless you prefer the five-star leaf accommodations.”

“You don’t even know me,” Alex pointed out, wondering if this was how people ended up as cautionary tales on true crime podcasts. Then again, Wade was his mate. And Alex needed somewhere to sleep that wasn’t covered in dirt and pine needles.

“I’m a good judge of character,” Wade replied with a confidence that seemed unearned given their five minutes of acquaintance.

“Or a serial killer looking for his next victim,” Alex muttered.

Wade laughed, the sound unexpectedly warm. “If I were hunting victims, I’d pick someone who didn’t look like they could be knocked over by a stiff breeze.”

“Rude, but fair,” Alex conceded.

“And the collar?”

Alex’s hand flew to his neck, fingers brushing against the cold metal. He’d almost forgotten it was there, a constant reminder of what he was, and wasn’t, allowed to do.

“Fashion statement,” he said flatly. It had been a gift from Drew, only, at the time Alex had accepted it and put it on, he hadn’t known it would trap him inside his human body.

Before Wade could respond, the waiter arrived with their food. The burger was massive, topped with melted cheese and thick slices of bacon. Steam rose from the pile of golden fries, carrying the scent of salt and grease. Alex’s mouth flooded with saliva.

“Go ahead,” Wade said, gesturing toward the plate. “I can practically hear your stomach from here.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. He forced himself to eat slowly, to savor each bite instead of inhaling it like the starving animal he was.

The food was exactly what his body needed, hot, filling, and savory.

Only when the edge of his hunger dulled did he notice Wade watching him with an amused expression.

“What?” Alex asked around a mouthful of fries.

“Nothing. Just wondering where you’re putting it all.” Wade leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of the booth. “You’re built like a runner.”

Alex swallowed. “High metabolism.” Another half-truth. Shifters burned calories faster than humans, especially when stressed. And he’d been nothing but stressed lately.

“So, do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?” Wade circled back to Alex’s sleeping accommodations.

Alex paused mid-chew. “Like I said, the woods have been pretty accommodating so far.”

“It’s going to rain.”

As if on cue, a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance. Perfect. Just perfect.

“I’m waterproof.” Alex took another bite of his burger, trying to project more confidence than he felt. The thought of spending another night outside, especially in the rain, made his chest tighten with dread. Especially since he couldn’t shift and find someplace small to stay dry.

“You’re more than welcome to stay with me.”

The offer hung between them, unexpected and tempting. Alex paused mid-bite, weighing his options. Sleep in the forest again, cold and vulnerable, or accept this stranger’s offer of shelter.

Except Wade wasn’t really a stranger anymore. The mate bond hummed between them, subtle but undeniable. Alex wondered if Wade felt it, too, or if wolves experienced it differently than bunny shifters.

“Why would you help me?” Alex asked, genuinely curious. “You don’t know me.”

Wade’s mouth quirked. “Let’s just say I’ve been where you are. Not exactly, but close enough. Sometimes you need someone to throw you a line. Besides, we’re mates.”

The sincerity in his voice made Alex nearly cry. He hadn’t expected kindness from anyone, least of all his mate—a complication he hadn’t seen coming and definitely didn’t need right now.

“Okay,” Alex finally said. “Thanks. Just for tonight though.”

Wade smiled, that lopsided grin that did funny things to Alex’s insides. “Sure. Just tonight.”

Alex finished his meal, including the slice of apple pie Wade insisted on ordering. By the time they left the diner, his body felt heavy with food and fatigue, the adrenaline that had kept him going finally draining away.

The rain had started, a light drizzle that promised to become something more substantial. Wade’s truck was parked around the corner, a black behemoth that Alex had to practically climb into. The interior smelled like leather and bourbon, with undertones of wolf that made Alex’s nose twitch.

“Buckle up,” Wade said, pulling away from the curb. “My place is about ten minutes outside of town.”

The truck’s heater blasted warm air, making Alex’s eyelids droop. He fought against the sudden wave of exhaustion, determined to stay alert. Trusting Wade enough to accept dinner and a place to sleep was one thing. Letting his guard down completely was another.

Streetlights flashed by as they drove through the quiet town. Few people were out at this hour, the sidewalks mostly empty. As they approached an intersection, the flash of red and blue lights caught Alex’s attention.

A police cruiser idled at the corner, an officer inside visible through the windshield. Alex instinctively slouched lower in his seat, ducking his head as if fascinated by something on the floor.

Wade glanced over. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, trying to keep his voice casual. “Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Wade slowed for the stop sign, nodding to the officer as they passed. The cruiser remained stationary, no sudden flashing lights or wailing sirens. Just a routine patrol that had nothing to do with Alex or what had happened miles away in that rental house.

Still, Alex didn’t straighten up until they’d turned onto the highway leading out of town, the police car no longer visible in the side mirror.

“Sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?” Wade asked, eyes on the road ahead.

“Nope.” Alex stared out the window at the dark shapes of trees rushing past. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

Not about Drew. Or the blood. Or how he’d fled a murder scene with nothing but the clothes on his back and a dead phone. He especially didn’t mention how he’d killed a man who’d been planning to kill him first.

Wade made a noncommittal sound that suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced, but he didn’t press the issue.

The road wound upward into the mountains, leaving the town lights behind. Soon they were surrounded by forest, the headlights cutting a bright path through the darkness.

“Almost there,” Wade said after a few minutes.

They turned onto a driveway that wound through thick trees before opening up to a large home nestled among towering pines. It looked sturdy, well-maintained, and Alex’s jaw dropped. Exactly who was mate? The place looked more like a resort-level fortress than the simple cabin Alex had expected.

“Home sweet home,” Wade said, killing the engine.

Alex stared at the place, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into. But as the cold night air hit him when he stepped out of the truck, he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision. At least tonight, he’d be warm.

As they walked toward the house in the rain, Alex felt like he’d crossed some invisible threshold. For better or worse, his path had now intersected with Wade’s.

His mate’s.

Life had a twisted sense of humor sometimes.