Chapter 1

Chapter One

Kodiak

“ F uck, this is going to be a shitty day,” I grumble when the glass carafe to my coffee pot shatters as soon as the coffee begins brewing. It’s a mad scramble to find a towel to toss over the mess as I curse under my breath. If I don’t have at least two mugs before leaving my house, there’s no way I’m going to be able to deal with the bullshit that happens down at the gym the club runs.

Forget it. I’ll just snag something on the way.

Figuring I’ll leave a few minutes earlier than usual, I quickly dress and then head out the door to my bike. It might be winter, but I’m a bear shifter, so I’m always hotblooded. No coat is needed.

Since the roads are clear, I’ll run on two wheels instead of taking my truck. Six inches of snow dumped on us last night, but the city got the plows out early, and I can’t resist the wind on my back or the freedom that calls to me. Always has if I’m honest.

As I travel the mountain roads of Yukon Bluff toward town, I think back to what drew me to the area and how I came to join the MC and grin. Each of our members is a shifter, but what makes us unique, besides the obvious of being different species, is that most of us would be considered predators of one another. But it’s not like that. Usually. I smirk, thinking of a few times when tempers flared.

Spike managed to create what we call a ‘found’ family. A brotherhood of misfits, so to speak, since most of us left our packs, clowders, murders, or congregations for one reason or another. Usually, it was because we were unwilling to challenge our own flesh and blood for the dominant alpha role, so it was just easier to leave. However, those aren’t my stories to tell.

I left because my uncle decided to challenge my father, and after some underhandedness, he killed my father, as well as my mother and siblings. The only reason I survived? I was out sowing my wild oats, so to speak. Thankfully, one of my friends slipped away and found me, so I was able to escape while other friends went into my home and gathered what they could to help.

For six months, I traveled around the country, moving as far from the place I called home as possible. The day Spike found me, I was tired, past hungry, and dehydrated. He took one look at me, shifted into his dragon, and flew me to where he had hunkered down. The place was near Yukon Bluff, incidentally. There, he nursed me back to health and explained his idea to me, which I wholeheartedly embraced, knowing there were others like us who needed a place to belong.

We bought the old ski lodge on a hill that overlooked town as well as the thousand acres that surrounded it, then basically put out the word that any shifters who didn’t have a home, who needed a place to belong and fit in, were welcome to join us in Yukon Bluff as we built a new motorcycle club. And that’s how Shifted Misfits started. We even have shifters in town who didn’t join the club who merely wanted the peace that Yukon Bluff offered to those who were misunderstood. They’ve become unlikely allies in many ways simply because they keep their eyes and ears open and let one of us know if trouble is coming.

I snicker out loud, the sound reverberating through the mountainside as I remember how hard it was for us to learn to ride when we first began all those years ago. Too fucking stubborn to take the classes offered at the local Harley dealer, we decided we’d figure it out on our own. Now, however, each of us is more than capable of handling our Harleys regardless of the weather, but there were a few mishaps along the way, that’s for damn sure.

“Good times,” I mutter, remembering when Spike got so pissed off at his ride, he threw it over the cliff after laying it down for the tenth time in one day. I mean, I’m unsure why he had such an attitude; the fucker has the ability to partially shift his arms and legs, so they’re beyond protected when he rides. He just needed to find a way to channel all that hot air. I think he’s found it now.

I slow down as I enter the town proper. We may have a good relationship with the local police, but there’s no reason for me to fly through town on my bike. Nothing’s that important. Well, my coffee, maybe, but that’s more for the safety of others, and I don’t think our sheriff would appreciate me using that as my explanation for why I’m speeding.

Grinning, I pull in front of the local coffee shop, Beanie’s Brew. Best fucking coffee I’ve ever had, but I know for a fact that their hot cocoa is in high demand as well, especially this time of the year. Beanie, of course, always has both available regardless of whether or not it’s about to snow, or the sun is heating up the state.

Once I’ve shut my girl down, I pocket my key and remove my helmet, hanging it off the handlebar. Something sweet catches my nose on the current of the wind, and I’m instantly sporting a hard-on. It’s odd, but I don’t understand the reason since it’s never happened before. My long strides quickly have me at the door, which I open when I see someone trying to exit at the same time.

Unfortunately, in my effort to help, because the cute woman seems to be struggling, I manage to bump her and watch in absolute horror as the drink she’s holding smashes against her sweater.

Her white sweater.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry, Darlin’. Can I get you another drink?” I ask.

“What? No. I think you’ve done quite enough,” she snarls, tossing the empty cup into the trash and storming past me out the door.

I can’t help but watch the swish of her ass as she stomps toward her car. She’s got a curvy figure and the type of bottom that’s round and jiggles with every step. A surge of lust flashes through me before I shrug it off. Just as I’m about to enter through the door, she gives me a frustrated glare. Green eyes flash with wicked, sexy fire.

“Huh. Well, now I’ve ruined her day,” I mutter as I head inside to grab myself some coffee. Looks like I’m going to need Beanie to add a few extra shots because this day is just getting better and better, and I haven’t even dealt with one of the asinine gym-goers yet. At this rate, I may need to go back home and start all over again.

As I wait in line, the scent that’s been teasing my nose since I arrived here, growing stronger ever since I crashed into the pretty redhead, wraps around my soul, and my eyes widen. In an instant, I know what it means.

“Fuck my life. Really? What did I do to piss off the gods?” I grumble. “Of all days to meet my mate, it would be today. Was it a smooth, ‘Hey, you’re mine, wanna get together meeting?’ No, no, it was not. It was a ‘hey, let me spill your drink all over your pretty sweater and ruin it’ kind of disaster.”

“You okay, Kodiak?” Beanie asks, looking at me with a frown on her face. “You’re talking to yourself.”

Great. “Sorry, Beanie. Just crashed into someone and spilled her drink. I need two large coffees, black, but give me a few hits of espresso. Gotta deal with month-end bullshit today, and my pot gave up the ghost.”

“Oh, the redhead? That was Callie. She’s really sweet. I just hired her to do a job for me here at the shop.”

My curiosity got the better of me. There’s no way I’m passing up this opportunity.

“What kind of work does she do?” I ask, trying not to be too obvious as I gather all the information I can about my mate. I’m going to need everything I can learn in order to turn her opinion of me around. I didn’t leave a good impression the first time we met.

“She’s a professional organizer,” Beanie replies, placing the first coffee on the counter before she starts working on the second one.

I can’t help the chuckle that bursts through. “A what?”

“They’re all the rage these days,” Beanie says, handing me the second coffee before she heads to the cash register. “I just think it’ll help me with respect to my inventory. Plus, she claims the aesthetics or something like that will promote feelings of calm.”

“Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me, Beanie,” I retort, handing her a twenty. “Keep the change. It’s getting to be that time of the year.”

“Thanks, Kodiak.”

“Thank you , Beanie,” I state before I head out to my bike so I can get to the gym.

As my ass plants on my seat, I think about what Beanie told me. A professional organizer? How is that a job? I shake my head before pulling on my helmet and firing up my ride, heading to work.

The gym is packed when I arrive. It’s common to see the lot full on most days, but with the snow, I thought fewer members would show up. Not the case today. I circle around to the back and park in the designated employee lot, specifically the space next to Peanut. Since we own the gym, we painted our spaces so no one else will park in them. Both say manager in white.

I don’t want anyone to hit my Harley or ding it like what happened at the damn grocery store a few months ago, so I get pissed if anyone parks close. Just thinking about that incident gets my blood heated. Being on two wheels instead of four doesn’t mean I don’t have as much right on the road. Peanut understands this, and we both like the designated spots. Plus, it’s our fuckin’ gym.

I’ve chugged the first coffee as I stand in the cold, letting the caffeine hit my stomach, and the warmth seep into my body. The second is in my hand in a flash. I gulp it down, too, noting that it’s still hot, but nothing I can't handle.

I head inside, stopping at my locker to grab my gym bag. I need to change and get in a workout because this restless feeling in my body won’t go away. It’s gotten worse in the time since I left Beanie’s Brew. I try not to think about the reason and fail.

Callie, the redhead. My mate.

Thinking about how I spilled her drink all over the front of her sweater has me amped up, and I snarl as I change, going straight to the treadmill where I push my body for forty-five minutes. It doesn’t help. I move to the punching bag and pull on my boxing gloves. I’m getting a good rhythm going until her face appears in my mind. Those big green eyes. Pillow-soft, kissable lips. The bag pops out of sync and bounces off my chin.

Fuck.

I rip off the gloves and toss them on the floor, deciding I should shower. Maybe the hot water will soothe my aching muscles and calm the raging storm inside me. But it doesn’t work either. I grow hard while I scrub my body with soap, giving my cock a few sharp tugs as I shiver. Callie’s face is all I can see in my mind’s eye, and I want more. I want her .

This isn’t the place to jerk off or fantasize about my woman. I’m not painting the fucking wall with my cum in a public shower, whether or not the club owns the fucking place. I shut off the water and towel dry, yanking on my clothes. I’m fucking frustrated in more ways than one.

Peanut spots me as I leave the locker room and waves me over. “The fuck has you all worked up?”

“What do you mean?” I growl, ignoring the curious looks of the staff.

Peanut grins. “A woman got you twisted, huh?”

How the fuck does he know that? “Shut up.”

“It is a woman,” he snickers. “You meet your mate or something?”

He’s joking. I know he is until he sees the look on my face. “Kodiak?”

“Not here,” I grumble, marching toward the office we share. It’s a large space we sectioned off when we first bought this building. I have my office across from his, and there’s a reception area in the front with a few chairs and tall plants. It’s supposed to make the space feel welcoming or some shit. No one ever comes in here except the two of us unless someone needs to use the copier or fax something, but that isn’t often. The copier is in Peanut’s office because the noise irritates me. We never hired a receptionist because we never needed one. The staff answers the phone, and we have a messaging service for the main gym line.

Peanut shuts the door behind him as he enters after me, watching me pace. He stays quiet, sensing I need to work through what’s going on in my head. He’s right. I do.

All my brothers share a connection. It’s difficult to explain to outsiders. We’re linked by brotherhood and enjoyment of the open road, freedom, and the wind on our backs as we ride, but that’s only part of it. It’s not mind-reading or anything too complex. Just the ability to sense each other’s mood and if there’s danger. Maybe it’s the shifter in us all that reads body language and understands unspoken cues.

“I found her,” I finally mutter, clenching my fists. “And I fucked it up.”

“Wait.” Peanut holds up a meaty hand. Elephant shifters aren’t exactly delicate. “You sayin’ you found your mate? As in your mate ?”

“Is there any other?” I snarl with agitation.

“Damn.” He stares at me for a few seconds. “What did you do?”

“I bumped into her and spilled her hot chocolate down the front of her sweater. Fucking ruined it. She stomped off, pissed at me. Wouldn’t even accept a new drink or my apology.”

Peanut is laughing by the time I finish. “You fucker,” I growl.

“What are you gonna do about it?” he teases, quickly stepping back when I fake a jump at him. He might be my brother, but right now, I wanna bust his face in.

His question is a valid one. What the fuck am I gonna do?

“I want to grab her and make her stay with me until I can convince her never to leave. Maybe if I force her to stay locked up with me during hibernation?—”

“Kodiak. Fuck.”

“I know. I sound fucking crazy. I can’t help it. My bear is already fighting to claim her. I can feel it.”

He sits in one of the empty chairs like he’s shocked. “Have you talked to Spike?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

“Go. He needs to know about this.”

Yeah. He does. “Alright. I’ll swing by later.”

Peanut nods, but he’s not paying attention. His eyes are glazed, and I know he’s thinking about what this can mean for all of us.

Mates. Family. Fatherhood.

Our fated mates. The one female destined to be ours. None of us really consider it. We don’t sit around and talk about it. But it’s been a secret longing for each of us.

We’re outcasts. A group of twisted outlaws. Misfits that don’t fit in anywhere else. Every one of us has a story to tell. But none of us expect this to happen. Finding love? Not in the realm of possibility.

Until now.

I rush outside and fire up my bike, hauling ass to the clubhouse. The cold doesn’t register in my head. I’m hot. Burning up. Sleet sizzles over the bare skin on my arms. I barely park my bike and shut down the engine before I smell her.

Callie’s scent slams into my body. It wraps around me with sensual fingers and digs in deep with sharp claws, burrowing under my skin. Instant lust fogs up my brain, followed by rage. It’s not her scent alone. It’s tangled with another male.

My pres.

And my bear is furious .