Ramsey watched the woman stomp down the stairs. He’d always appreciated feisty. He was in a piss mood, and good on her for telling him off. Now, if one of his boys had done that, he would’ve blasted them in the face and given them a few hell-recovery days to remind them who was Alpha every time they looked in the mirror, but with Vina, all her anger had done was make him look at her a little harder.

She was cute, for a moose. Had he ever met a moose shifter? There weren’t many of them in the world, and how the fuck did this one end up in the microscopic town of Corvallis? And she wanted a crow? Huh. He’d never thought about his need to mate for life as a plus for some women. Tenlee had hated it.

Tenlee. Shit. His stomach curdled, and he sauntered back into his room to shower. He was going to be late to the meeting if he didn’t rush. There was the folder she’d thrown on his bed. He tried to ignore it by righting a lamp, stalling. He didn’t need that woman’s baggage, and the hideous pink folder was probably full of it.

He picked his way around the room, tidying it quickly. He’d flipped out after that Crow Chaser left his room. She’d only frustrated him more. He needed the girls to stay away from him right now, at least until he figured out how to recover from this broken mating bond to Tenlee. But that moose…calling herself his mate… It was the most confusing thing he’d ever heard, but there had been a second, a single moment, when she was telling him he was enough just because he was a crow, that he’d felt something he hadn’t felt for a long time. It was a moment of relief. A moment where his whole body didn’t hurt. It was a pain-free moment where his head wasn’t screaming that he was a failure.

How fucked up was that? What a mess Tenlee had left behind. He was the mess.

And that girl…that Vina…that moose? She was a total mess, too.

Brave girl, though, coming through the clubhouse. It was club members only, and no doubt she’d taken shit from the boys downstairs. Yet she’d knocked. A Nirvana song. Ha. Points for her. Too bad he would never see her again.

A wave of pain racked his body, and he doubled over with it. He barely caught the edge of the bed with one locked arm, and then he was face-to-face with that fucking sparkly neon folder. She had a hideous taste in colors. Black was the only color he didn’t hate.

Cold sweat broke out on his body, and his arms shook as he grunted with the burning in his veins. His body hated him. Broken bonds were poison, and his had been so strong for Tenlee. Stupid crow. He couldn’t even see when she had cringed away from him every time he tried to touch her. His animal only knew she was his and didn’t care about anything else.

As long as he lived, however short that might be, he would never show affection to another woman. Women were poison. Poison to the mind, making him feel weak and inadequate, when he was the biggest, baddest crow in existence. Or he had been before Tenlee. He’d been on a path to be leader of the entire shifter culture. And now he was losing his own Clan by way of slow insanity. Women were poison to the body. All it took was sex one time that wasn’t just fucking, but making love, and a man’s body got addicted to that feeling. Coming was better if it was inside a girl who had his heart. But what happened when that wasn’t there anymore? Strong men went to their knees.

Gritting his teeth, Ramsey opened the folder just to take his mind off the debilitating tantrum his body was throwing.

Vina Fiona Marsh. Pretty name for a pretty lady. One who didn’t match him in any way, but if he was a different man, one out of the MC life, one with a steady cubicle job, weekends off, and a 401k, maybe he could’ve taken this matchmaking thing more seriously. She was clearly a nice girl who didn’t have any idea what a bad boy really meant. He would get a sweet little thing like her killed in no time flat.

She didn’t belong. Stuck out.

She was tall and curvy with long sandy-colored hair that she’d curled up real nice. Loose-fitting white T-shirt and acid-wash shorts cuffed up high on her long legs. No visible tattoos. No rebellion at all from what he could tell. Even her sneakers had been pristine white. Made him want to make her filthy.

Wait…what?

No. He didn’t need to make her filthy. He needed to leave the moose alone. There weren’t many of them, but they were notorious for being extremely aggressive in their animal form. It’s why they made good parents. They were one of the most protective parent shifters in existence. Fuck with their offspring and, simply put, you would die under a couple of massive hooves. Horrible way to go.

Interesting girl. Good girl in her human body, but her moose would be a monster.

He liked people who were walking contradictions. For some reason he didn’t understand, Ramsey had always been drawn to the unexpected.

That girl might be a mess, but he bet she would be so much fun to ruin.

God, his crow was a demon.

Ramsey began to read her file.

Moose shifter, thirty-three years old, only interested in crows. Parents were still paired up. Her favorite color was sparkles? What the fuck? She worked at the community center in Darby, planning events for the town. Had moved there three years ago in hopes of finding a crow mate.

Huh. What made a girl pack up and move from—he scanned the application—Michigan to come to the small town of Darby just on the off-chance she would find a crow mate? Clearly, she didn’t care about love matches. She only saw one animal she wanted, and that was that.

God, this woman was something else.

She’d written an essay at the back. Ramsey ripped it off the other pages, leaving one corner shredded from where the staple had been.

 

Dear Sarah,

I don’t really know what else to do. I hoped I would find my mate the natural way, but it’s not happening, and every day is like Groundhog’s Day. Have you seen that movie? I wake up, get ready, put on my make-up and dress cute because maybe today will be the day. But it never is. I go to work, I work hard, keep busy, keep my heart open in case I meet one of them in town. One of the crows. And I have over the last year. They come here on their motorcycles, loud music blaring from some of the bikes. They go to a couple of the bars sometimes. I always hear them, and sometimes I go where they are, just on the off-chance that one will see me, and that will be that. He will pick me. I feel as if a crow is my fate, but lately, I’m starting to question whether I’m just one of those crazy girls who believes in something so thoroughly that I don’t realize when my wishes have turned into something impossible. I’m lonely. I haven’t been able to make friends here because none of the shifters here know I exist. They are in some kind of war. I can feel the tension. It’s always been there. I’ve seen fights at The Gutshot that would make a normal girl nauseous. Violence is the epitome of the culture here, and I’m a rogue. No point in announcing myself until I have a shot at what I came here for. I want a crow. Even if he’s flawed, I want a man to bond to my animal and actually choose me…not just pretend to in the beginning and then leave me when I’m invested. It’s always the same. So here I am, eating a TV dinner on my couch, watching bad television by myself, and preparing mentally to have tomorrow be just the same as today, and yesterday, and the day before.

I need something new.

Something real and healthy. If this doesn’t work, and you tell me you can’t find me a crow, then I’m quitting this wish.

Thanks for trying. I know it’s not easy finding matches for my animal.

Vina

 

The letter was dated two years ago. So she’d just been sitting here doing the same thing for two years, waiting for this matchmaker woman, Sarah, to find a crow?

Ramsey crumpled up the paper in a rush and chucked it at the trashcan in the corner. Missed, thanks to his body seizing mid-throw. It bounced off the wall and laid in a little taunting ball right be the door.

Whatever.

He wasn’t it for Vina.

He wasn’t it for anyone.

His crow had already made his choice.