Chapter 3
Blake
Ican’t eat. I can’t sleep.
It’s been three days since I first laid eyes on my little birdie, and she’s all I can think about. That glossy, jet-black hair, those big, wide-set eyes. All those cool, quirky tattoos and piercings.
I’m a sick man. I don’t even know her name, but those bright black eyes of hers fill every thought. She’s nothing like any chick I’ve met before, and I’m totally fixated on her.
The moment I saw her standing outside JC’s, my wolf’s mating urge roared to life for the first time.
And when she walked inside and our eyes locked, I was lost.
She’s so tiny, vulnerable. I feel like I could lift her up and put her on my shoulder.
But so full of fire and sass. I never pictured myself with a bird.
Not sure if I ever truly pictured myself with anyone.
All my encounters with women have been so hollow.
Paige was just the latest in a long line of chicks who wanted to be with me because it brought them kudos, or something.
They all wanted to be seen with me, screwed by me.
And this little bird acted like she didn’t give a shit.
And she was so edgy and hostile, I would’ve believed her.
If I hadn’t seen her watching me on stage. She focused on my every move, with a bird’s intensity. Her eyes didn’t stray from me once.
I took in her parted lips; her small hand, rising to her chest, as if she was measuring the speed of her heartbeat.
She was too far away for me to smell her scent, but I picked it up later—sweet and heady, and I knew: she wanted me.
Every song I sang was just for her. The crowd thought I was running through the usual favorites. But I picked a song that means a lot to me. I was calling her to me.
I put her on my guestlist, hoping she’d join me backstage.
But she didn’t come, because she’s sassy like that.
Then she protected me. And the weird thing is, I didn’t care that I was the object of some dumb manipulation. All I could think was how awesome my girl is. How fearless and outspoken.
My mate.
My beast has never spoken the word before, but now it won’t quit insisting.
Find her.
Get to her.
It’s ready to take matters into its own hands. Threatening to burst out of me and hunt her down. It’s all I can do to keep it inside me.
I’ve been asking around, but no one knows her name. No one’s ever seen her before. She’s not an MC chick, that’s for sure.
All I have of hers is the band flyer she gave me. I’ve memorized every single word of it. Pressed it to my nose, inhaling the faintest traces of her scent. The band is playing in a couple of days, but I can’t wait that long to try and find her. Some other dude might have snatched her away by then.
My knuckles crunch at the thought.
For three days, I’ve been looking for her from dawn till midnight.
I’ve been driving around every small town in a radius around JC’s, asking if anyone knows her.
I also have a single, crappy photo. After she ran out on me, I sat down in the office and trawled through the CCTV, trying to get a good image of her.
The system is old, though—we inherited it along with the club—and the only shot where you can see her face is black and white and grainy as hell.
My dad is mad at me. This is no time to be abandoning my work. For a long time, I’ve been struggling to turn his seedy old MC bar into a real music venue. We’re just starting to see results, but we’re still barely breaking even.
But I don’t give a crap. Nothing is worth having without my mate.
I know if I don’t find this girl, I’ll lose my drive. I won’t be able to help out by singing in the house band. And I’ll go back to that dark, dark place I fell into after high school.
It’s already dark when a turn-off for Perdue catches my eye. I’ve heard it’s a place for unique personalities. People who don’t want to follow society’s rules. Seems like the kind of place my little bird might have her roost.
I flick my blinker and take the exit off the highway.
It’s a small town of a few thousand, I guess, made up of narrow, mazelike streets. Like it’s doing its best to confuse outsiders.
My wolf’s ears are pricked up, nose twitching.
I’m on the right track. I feel it deep in my chest. A low vibrating growl. My beast calling to its mate.
I trawl the streets, looking for bars, gathering places. Does she work in an office during the day? I picture her sitting at a desk, tapping away at a computer. I’ll bet she’s real good at her job. Whip smart and efficient.
A lot of the stores are dark, with shutters pulled down, or bars at the windows. A tattoo shop still has its lights on. When I pull up, a big, unfriendly-looking guy hauls open the door and glowers at me.
“Is there a promo company in town? Or a marketing agency?” I call through the window of my truck.
“Who wants to know?” His gaze fixates on my out-of-state plates.
“I’m looking for a small chick, black hair. Chopped right here.” I try to indicate my girl’s sharp hairstyle, and I thrust out the sheet of paper with her image on it.
The guy snarls, strides right over, and snatches the paper out of my hand.
My wolf’s hackles rise as it scents another Alpha wolf. Easy, I tell it.
His hostile face fills the window. “Friendly word of advice. Don’t go asking about people in this town. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll turn around and go back the way you came.”
My wolf snarls. I cage it behind my teeth, but it’s too late. It bursts from my lips with a feral sound.
The guy’s own beast rises, the bones in his face broadening. “Don’t make me fight you, stranger. I’m the unofficial law around here, and it won’t end well.”
My wolf claws up my insides, its fur burning my skin. I push back on it. “I don’t want to fight anyone. I’m just looking for my mate.”
His eyebrows lift. “Your mate?” He looks at the photo for a long, long time. “Can’t help,” he says at last.
My beast growls. He’s lying.
His eyes lock onto mine. “Some folks here have suffered a lot,” he says slowly. “It’s my job to make sure no one hurts them anymore. You wanna get in touch with her, use the Internet or some shit like that.”
Before I can reply, he turns and stomps back to his tattoo shop, slamming the door behind him.
She’s here.
People are protecting her.
That gives me some comfort—
My job to protect her! my wolf bellows. I shove it back down, but it’s right.
All the tattoo shop dude’s warning has done is make me more determined to find her.
Anticipation runs like lava in my veins. She’s here. In this town. All I have to do is track her down.
I’m not giving up.
I’m more cautious now, though. I know better than to flash her photo around. Instead, I just look.
A night passes. I sleep in my car, on the outskirts of the town.
All day, I lay low, avoiding attracting attention to myself.
I wander around streets like a tourist. It’s a weird town.
Most of it is dark, shuttered, hostile. But there are a bunch of new shops and a little bookstore that looks like it’s been teleported from some cute college town.
I hope my girl’s been happy living here.
I hope no one’s been trying to steal her heart.
When it gets dark, I go hunt again.
At last, I strike gold. A little bar on a narrow backstreet. Sinner’s Refuge.
There she is.
Working behind the bar, pouring beers.
My breath catches at the sight of her. Warmth floods my chest.
I’ve thought about her so long and hard; I can hardly believe I’m seeing her with my own eyes.
Her hair hangs loose to her shoulders, dead straight, and she’s wearing a black pinafore dress over a stripy black-and-white sweater. She’s so individual, my girl. She likes doing everything her own way.
I hang in the shadows and watch her through a window.
She’s quick, full of energy. When she’s done putting the drinks on a tray, she dashes them over to a table. Then she’s back, serving some guys at the bar.
My beast growls. There are a lot of guys in there. Hungry, feral shifters. It doesn’t like that, one bit.
But it likes watching her.
My mate.
Hectic and full of life, black, glossy hair swinging like a curtain as she moves.
And she’s good with the customers. She’s less than half the size of most of the beasts in there, but she doesn’t take shit from anyone.
Her mouth is sassy and her elbows are sharp.
I’m entranced by every single thing she does.
Never thought my mate would be a bird, but now it just seems right.
I start to imagine our life together. I’ll take her back to my hometown, renovate my big old family house for her. We’ll have a whole litter of pups. Half-wolf, half-bird. That’ll be a cool combination. They’ll all have her jet-black hair and big eyes.
Every nerve in my body yearns to storm in there and tell her she’s mine. Sweep her out in my arms. But I’ve got to be patient. She’s flighty and I don’t want to scare her off again.
There’s a sound behind me—a quiet tread.
I whirl around.
Crack!
Too late. Something socks me in the side of the head.
I roar in pain and fury, and I find myself staring right into the fierce brown eyes of a big mama-bear shifter. She cuffed me?
My beast is pushing its way out, canines breaking through, fur burning my skin, but I rein it back in. “What the fuck?” I bellow instead.
She doesn’t falter one bit. “Why have you been stalking that girl?” she demands, looking like she’s about to rip my head off.
“What girl—?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Her expression is shrewd. “Unless you want things to get real messy.”
She knows her. She’s protective of her. They’re not blood relations, obviously. But maybe she’s her guardian or something. My mind whirls. Don’t want to end up on the wrong side of my girl’s adoptive mother.
“She’s my mate,” I say at last.
The bear’s eyebrows shoot up. “Your mate?” There’s a mocking tone in her voice that my wolf does not appreciate. It’s fine. I can deal. I can deal with anything for the sake of my girl.
“And that’s why you’ve been staring at her through the window like a pervert?”
“I’m keeping watch over her,” I snarl.
She shakes her head slowly. ““That’s my job, wolf features. Elinor has people to keep watch over her.”
Elinor.
That’s my angel’s name. It fizzes and sparkles in my heart like a firework show.
I repeat it in my head over and over, while darts of longing set me alight.
“She doesn’t know she’s your mate, does she?” the mama bear cuts in. Her voice is dripping with sarcasm.
The old me would’ve ripped into her. But I hold back.
“I’ve come to claim her.”
She looks me up and down, nostrils flaring while her massive lungs inflate. “A lot of guys think Elinor is their mate. They’ve all been wrong. And most of them have ended up barred from here. From the whole town, in fact.”
My wolf roars at the thought of other men trying to claim her.
Play nice, I remind it.
“I’m different.”
She looks me up and down again. “You don’t look like her type.”
“What do you—?”
“You look like an overgrown frat boy. The kind of guy who’ll break her heart.”
“Never!” I roar. “She’s mine.”
She takes a step closer, until I can see the flecks of gold in her irises. “I don’t know about you. You’re not the kind of guy I imagined her with. I don’t know if you’re right for her.”
“Trust me, I’m going to make her happy.”
She curls her lip. “You want to claim a girl like her, you work for it. And you screw up, you’ve got me to deal with. Now, don’t let me see you creeping around here again.”
Before I can reply, she turns on her heel and leaves.
My wolf is all growly and snarly. Offended she could think I’m not the perfect mate for my girl. I take one last, lingering glance through the window. There she is—Elinor—chatting to some chick across the bar counter. Her face all lit up, and she’s giggling, like they’re sharing some gossip.
A deep ache blooms in my chest. Mate.
I swear I’m going to make her the happiest woman alive.
And then I’ll make her mine.