Bound by Blood: Last Ruby Wolf and Her Fated Mate

"I'm fine, Mom," I said, balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear as I slid off my cherry-red Ducati. After hanging my helmet on the handlebars, I tucked my key into my bra and headed toward the run-down bar.

The neon sign above read "OM'S." The letters were too faded for me to make out, even under the full moon, so I shifted into my wolf form. It was second nature at this point. My body remained human as I read the full name: Tommy's.

"Get back to New York and bite Noah," my mom snapped. "The trials start next week. You know he can save your life, and-"

"And probably die trying," I cut her off, smoothing the frizz in my hot pink hair.

I wasn't sure what city I was in, but I knew it was somewhere in Maine. Thick forests stretched for miles, soothing the wolf in me.

After checking into a sketchy motel, I was told the bar down the street had the best food, so I made my way over to satisfy my growling stomach.

I was nauseous-not from the food, but because my hot pink hair marked me as an unmated ruby wolf. Being one of the rare, natural Alphas wasn't exactly a blessing. There were supposed to be two ruby wolves per generation, but somehow, I was the only one.

Magical trials could make a normal wolf a ruby, but they were deadly. Most who tried didn't survive. My friend Noah was all in, but I wasn't ready to risk his life.

"What do you want me to do, Hazel?" My mom's voice was tired, and I felt it too. We had all been worn out for years. "There's no other option."

"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe start planning my funeral? I could head to South America, find a rickety zipline, and hope my claws snap it while I'm having fun."

She growled. "No."

Classic Mom-always blunt. She was the most honest person I knew, and though we clashed when I was a teenager, we had grown into more of a friendship as I got older.

I sat at the bar, dropping my arms onto the counter. "I'll call you if I do something stupid. Love you." I hung up just as the bartender came over. He was around my age-rugged, with that undeniable charm that made him a hit with every girl, whether they admitted it or not.

"Your best whiskey, on the rocks," I said, pulling my ID and cash from my bra and placing them on the counter. The bartender took a quick look at my pink hair, then my chest. While I wasn't exactly blessed in that department, a good push-up bra worked wonders.

"Coming right up," he said and walked off. I leaned back to survey the surprisingly busy bar.

It was probably a Friday evening, but it could've been any day. The bar was clearly the town's go-to hangout. It was a bit run-down but had a cozy, welcoming feel that I liked.

My phone lit up. Dad. I picked it up.

"Hey, pops." I accepted my drink and took a sip. My dad was always protective, and I could tell from his tone that Mom had probably filled him in on my wild idea.

"Where are you?" he asked, his voice strained.

"I'm fine." I ignored the question, intentionally avoiding the topic of me leaving.

"Noah is ready," he began.

"I'm not," I interrupted, knowing he wouldn't like that answer. He'd understand, though. I was my mother's daughter, and she was his best friend.

"Come home," he said, his tone firm.

"Dad, I need time. This is my choice, and I expect you to respect that."

"I'm worried about you."

"I know, but I need space right now. I'll come back when I'm ready." I hung up, dropping my phone on the counter and sipping my whiskey. I hated making them worry, but if Noah tried the trials and didn't make it, I'd never forgive myself.

As I mulled over the situation, I felt eyes on me-nothing new. People stared at my pink hair, but I didn't mind. I leaned into it, dressing in clothes that highlighted my tattoos and showed a little skin-short tops, tight skirts, fishnets-always with my motorcycle boots, just in case.

When I finished my drink, I debated leaving and heading back to my motel room to avoid its musty smell. But then the bartender brought me another drink, and I spotted a text from Olivia.

LIV: Finally snuck away, heading toward you now.

I knew Liv's parents were likely grilling her about my disappearance. She was the only one who had access to track my phone.

I tapped my fingers on the counter, weighing my options. None of them felt right.

The door slammed behind me, but I didn't turn. I'd lived twenty-two years without meeting anyone who was a real threat. If I ever did, I'd look forward to the challenge.

A giant of a man slid onto the barstool beside me. I glanced over at him. He was massive-easily over six and a half feet, with shoulders like a linebacker and arms covered in tattoos. His presence was almost overwhelming, and I couldn't help but glance down at his thighs, impressed by the sheer size.

His scent was a mix of sweat and pine trees, and I found myself wanting to lean in closer for another whiff. But there was too much going on for me to indulge in that kind of distraction, especially when I was still considering my options for mating.

The guy leaned toward the bartender, practically growling his order for a bacon nacho bowl, chili fries, and a beer. As he paid, I caught a glimpse of his ID-Merrick Blake. The card moved too quickly for me to get a good look at his picture.

He downed the beer in one go, his eyes locked on the bartender as if daring anyone to interrupt his meal.

Finally slumping onto his stool, Merrick took in a deep sniff of the air. I noticed because, well, it was a classic werewolf move. But I shouldn't have been encountering wolves here-no way was I anywhere near the Maine pack territory, which was miles away from where I'd ridden my bike.

"What are you?" Merrick growled at me as I took a sip of my drink.

"Excuse me?" I shifted slightly, letting a touch of menace creep into my stance, while keeping my scent neutral. I wasn't going to acknowledge him right away, hoping it'd irritate him.

"You heard me." He ignored any manners and stood up, sniffing the air once more. Whatever I had planned to say flew right out of my mind when I saw him.

Not because he was ridiculously hot, though he definitely was. No, it was because of his hair.

Hot pink.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my gaze fixed on his wild pink strands. The sides were shaved close, the top long and messy in a way that should've looked disheveled but was somehow just right. Even his stubble was the same pink.

"I don't answer questions from unidentified shifters." Merrick rose to his full height, clearly trying to intimidate me. Standing toe to toe with him, I wasn't bothered by his size. My father had taught me how to fight, and no amount of muscle was going to shake that confidence.

He was a mountain of a guy, standing nearly a foot taller than me, and I wasn't exactly short.

"What does that mean?" I glared, already aware of the term 'shifter' from books-creatures that could transform into animals, other than wolves. But as far as I knew, wolves were the only real supernatural creatures out there.

"Tommy," Merrick snapped at the bartender. "Who is she?"

"No clue. Rode in about an hour ago. ID says Hazel Ellis."

"The Ducati?"

I took a step closer, my instincts kicking in, and grabbed him by the throat. His massive hand shot out, grabbing my arm before I could do anything further. But I wasn't about to let some random guy put his hands on me-no matter how striking his hair was.

A quick twist of my body sent him to the floor, with my knee pressing firmly against his throat. Enough to threaten, but not cut off his air.

"Who are you?" I growled, my wolf side rising to the surface. His chest rumbled beneath me, but it didn't sound like the usual wolf growl. It sounded... different, more mechanical.

Then, I smelled it.

His scent shifted. The musky, sweat-soaked smell now mixed with something wild-pine, but with a spicy kick that made my senses flare.

"What are you?" I snarled.

He inhaled deeply again, and before my eyes, the fur sprouted over his cheeks, turning pink, the same shade as his hair. A new, heavier scent filled the air-a heady blend of desire and pine, sending a ripple of something instinctual through me.

I realized then-my body was responding to him in a way I couldn't quite control.

He gripped my thighs, his claws tearing through my fishnets as he pulled me closer. His face was dangerously near, and that damn scent filled my head.

I shoved him back, my knee slamming into his face before I flipped out of his grasp. He tried to grab me again, but I used his momentum to toss him aside, elbowing him straight in the nose for good measure. The satisfying crunch of bone made me smile.

I didn't wait for him to recover, though. I was already heading for the door. I'd had enough of this freak show, but I could feel his eyes on me, like he wasn't going to let me leave without a fight.

The silence in the bar was deafening as I stepped outside, the cold night air hitting me like a punch. I was almost to my bike when I noticed something missing.

"Looking for this?" Merrick's voice cut through the dark, his hand holding up my key, along with a wad of cash. I reached inside my bra for my spare key-nothing.

"I'm sure we don't need to go over what just happened," I said, gesturing to his bleeding nose.

"Animal," he repeated the question from earlier, the word taking on a whole new meaning.

"What are you?" I wasn't answering until he did.

"Grizzly." The word rolled off his tongue like it was no big deal. "A ruby grizzly." His voice was calm, but I could hear the pride in it.

A bear. And not just any bear, but a ruby-shifter. How had I gotten so lucky?

"Are there more like you?" I asked, curiosity flaring. The idea that I might have options, might choose, made my heart race. Could I have more than just a wolf to pick from?

"You should know that answer." He folded his arms across his chest. "Why haven't I seen you before?"

"I'm just passing through." I grabbed my helmet, my mind whirling with possibilities.

"No one passes through Shifter City," Merrick growled, narrowing his eyes.

Shifter City? Did that mean everyone here was a shifter?

"I do." I held my hand out. "Give me my key."

His eyes glinted with something dangerous. "You resisted my pheromones." He took a step closer, his green eyes now piercing in the moonlight. "I've started my mate hunt. You won't escape until you're mine."

I froze. Mate hunt? What the hell was he talking about?

His hand brushed over mine, sending an electric pulse through me. "What are you?" he asked again, his voice dropping.

"Wolf." I couldn't lie anymore. I wanted information, and if I had to reveal something to get it, so be it. The way his eyes lit up told me he liked that answer, and I sure as hell wanted to know why.

"What is this place?" I added, needing to know more.

He inhaled deeply, almost as if he could taste my scent. "You're attracting," he muttered.

"Talk with me inside for ten minutes," he said, his voice thick with urgency. "Then I'll give you back your key."

I followed him inside, grumbling under my breath.

The pheromones thing was weird. But if this bear-shifter really thought I was his 'True Mate,' then maybe he could help me. After all, a mate could be exactly what I needed to survive, without risking Noah's life.

And maybe, just maybe, he was more than just a convenient ally.

There was something about Hazel Ellis's scent that struck me unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. Women generally have pleasant aromas, but hers was a unique blend of leather and citrus that made it impossible to control my instincts. It was as if the animal inside me-my bear-wanted to burst free.

The moment she pinned me to the ground and I inhaled her scent fully, I lost all control. My mind snapped into grizzly mode, and I could feel pheromones I'd never been able to control flooding out, designed specifically to draw her in. Hazel was my True Mate, and I hadn't even realized it until that moment at Tommy's bar.

For ruby shifters like me, meeting a True Mate is almost unheard of. Nature doesn't care about fur color, and often pairs us with non-rubies, which makes it dangerous to try to turn them into one of us. So, when we find the person nature intends for us, most of us just walk away.

I never thought I'd find my True Mate, so stumbling upon Hazel felt like winning the lottery. To top it off, discovering she was a long-lost wolf shifter was just the cherry on top.

I collapsed into a booth, eyes glued to Hazel as she settled across from me. The way she moved-graceful and controlled-suggested a background in dance or acrobatics. She was as strong as she was agile, and that strength was reflected in the sharpness of her gaze.

She leaned forward slightly, and I couldn't help but let my gaze drop to her chest. Her low-cut top practically dared me to look, and those curves? They were calling to me, and I intended to claim them.

"What do you want?" Her piercing blue eyes locked on mine, unflinching.

"You," I growled, my bear pushing forward as the truth came out. The animal inside me wasn't going to back down until she was mine-completely.

"I'm not a piece of meat," she retorted, narrowing her eyes. "Can werewolves and shifters mate?"

The wolves had abandoned us long ago, but I didn't expect them to be clueless about our existence. "Yes. I take it there's no ruby wolf around, seeing as you don't have a male protector with you."

"There isn't another ruby wolf, or we'd already be together. My friend's going to become one, just so he can mate with me if I can't find someone else. But this..." She gestured to me, looking both surprised and wary.

Tommy set down our food, but I had lost all interest in eating. The only thing I wanted was the woman sitting across from me.

As the noise of the bar buzzed around us, I knew people could smell the change in me. My scent was now unmistakably drawn to Hazel, and the True Mate pheromones were impossible to hide. It was obvious to anyone who knew what to look for-except, maybe, for Hazel, who seemed unaffected by it for now.

"You called me True Mate. Explain," she demanded. The way she said it made me like her even more.

"When a shifter meets his True Mate, pheromones kick in and his scent changes. It's like a hunting instinct that only ends when she's with him or someone else," I explained, my voice rough with the truth of it.

I didn't mention that it was possible for a guy to silently reject his True Mate without her ever knowing. But Hazel didn't need to hear that; I had no intention of walking away from her.

"Bullshit," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's nature's way of showing we're made for each other," I insisted, though my eyes were fixed on her. Her beauty, her strength-it was impossible to look away.

She snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Grizzly, you zoned out again."

I inhaled deeply, drawn to the scent of her skin, and my chest let out a low rumble. She yanked her hand away, her expression wary.

"What the hell is that noise?" she demanded. "You sound like a motorcycle."

I shrugged it off, unable to control the rumble that echoed in my chest.

"Okay, look." She seemed to shake off her earlier question. "You're right, I'm attracting. But I've been around a lot of wolves, and they're going to start fighting if I don't mate soon. I need to meet the ruby shifters. I have to pick someone, and fast."

I could feel the tension building. If she thought I'd let her be courted by any of those other ruby assholes, she was out of her mind.

Grabbing her hand, I brought it to my nose, inhaling deeply. Leather, citrus, grapefruit-and something sweet, like honey?

My senses were sharp, and it took me a moment to focus, but I could feel the Alpha energy in her scent, mixing with her own.

"You've got about a week or two before things get dangerous," I said, pulling away from her hand to focus on her eyes.

"You can smell that?" Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Yeah," I replied, my tone calm but intense. "If you let me taste, I could get a better estimate."

She hesitated, then finally nodded. "Fine, a tiny taste. But you start licking me like some kind of ice cream cone, and I'll make you regret it."

There was nothing she could do to make me regret tasting her. But I knew I had to take it slow-at least for now.

Still holding her wrist, I leaned in and ran my tongue along the center of her palm. The instant I tasted her, my entire body shuddered. She had this effect on me-powerful, intoxicating.

"Pay attention," Hazel barked, snapping me out of my daze.

"Sorry," I muttered, clearing my throat. "My senses are just... too strong around you. It's like touching an electric fence."

"An electric fence?"

"In a good way," I added, shaking off the fog in my head. "In about seven and a half days, your attraction will be strong enough to push other wolves into fighting."

Hazel pulled her hand back, running it through her hair. "Shit. Guess you'll need to start introducing me to the other ruby shifters."

The thought of letting her near any other male shifters made my blood boil. I opened my mouth to protest, but then I caught the unmistakable scent of someone I wasn't about to let near my True Mate.

I stood abruptly, storming to the door just in time to shove the cat prince back before he could enter the bar.

"I hear we have a wolf princess in here," the cat purred, clearly enjoying himself.

I didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence. I threw a punch, but he dodged it, so I knocked him back with my shoulder. He staggered but recovered quickly.

"What the hell is going on?" Hazel's eyes widened as she saw the cat.

The guy was a handsome bastard-golden skin, lean muscles-but he was no match for me.

He lifted his chin, prancing toward her. "Princess," he said, clearly enjoying the attention.

I stepped between them, glaring at him.

"Are you talking to me?" Hazel asked, her hand on her hip.

"Of course, love," the cat answered, his grin widening.

How many times was he going to call her "love"? I growled, but they both ignored me.

"You're unmated," Hazel noted, glancing at his hair. Most ruby shifters were referred to as 'pink rubies' before they mated, as their hair didn't turn red until after.

"Only until I make you mine," the cat responded with a smug look.

I couldn't take it anymore. A roar ripped from me as I shifted fully into my beast form, charging toward the damn cat with every ounce of rage I could muster.