Bound to Change: A Limited Edition Spring Shifter Romance Collection

by Margo Bond Collins

  "Too right it isn't," Legend interrupted, his lips pursed tightly as he gently removed Poppy's fingers from his jacket and handed her off to Isaiah with a gentle pat on the arm and a kiss on her cheek. He met her eyes and nodded, and she visibly relaxed with a soft sigh. Isaiah led her to the SUV and sat her down in the front seat, keeping his attention equally divided between her and the newcomer. Legend crossed his arms over the broad expanse of his chest and stared down the badger. "I want you to have a sit down with Owen when he gets back. I think y'all have a lot to talk about."

  "Indeed, I'm certain we do." The man crossed his ankles and sank to the ground, heedless of the snow melting beneath him and soaking into his jeans. "I will gladly wait any length of time necessary for your Alpha to return. My name is Asveen Natrajeshwar, by the way."

  Legend opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by Poppy slamming the car door as she stomped toward them, intense curiosity blazing in her eyes. She stopped mere inches from Asveen and stiffly shook Isaiah's hand from her arm when he reached for her.

  "What did you mean when you said, 'time does strange things'?"

  Asveen tilted his head. "I think you know."

  "Pretend I don't. You acted like you knew me. What's that about?"

  "You were quite young not so long ago, yes? Perhaps fourteen? Fifteen?"

  "Fifteen, nearly sixteen. Yeah-so what?"

  "You are a young thing no longer, am I correct? At least, not quite so young. I sense now-" Asveen paused and sniffed the air between them quite dramatically, his eyes drifting closed as his mouth opened slightly, his pink tongue touching his front teeth. Suddenly his hand snapped out, grabbing her ankle. The three of them tensed with a slew of gasps and a curse from Legend, but Asveen merely lifted a finger to his lips to shush them. His eyes fluttered open and his dark gaze drifted up her body to land upon her face. Poppy felt herself blushing. "Poppy Marie Takala. You entered the astral plane unawares last night, didn't you. You met someone there-another Shifter, one from a dangerous pack. He was not supposed to contact you, and yet he did. He broke the pact his Alpha enforced upon all of his underlings and put not only himself in danger but you, as well. In coming into such contact with you he must have activated a latent and dormant magical gene within you. The Takala family has long been not only a Shifter family, but the heirs to a magical inheritance. Yasmeena has been alive in one form or another for hundreds of years, always a member of the Takala bloodline. Before that, she was Hestia Praxxos, one of two apprentices of a man known as-well, I'll let Owen tell you that tale. It is, after all, not only our history but the mythos on which our magic is based. Suffice it to say that Yasmeena-forgive me, Jasmine-is older than you could ever guess. And far, far more dangerous.

  "But I digress. The family magic, once activated, brought you to your perfect age. The height of your physicality. You are most likely physically closer now to nineteen or even twenty, though you likely will fill out a bit more in the coming days. Able to withstand a Shift, to settle upon a mate, learn to defend yourself, and so on. It happens to all hereditary Shifters. Don't worry, kitten, it won't shorten your life at all. You haven't aged in the mortal way, requiring you to suffer tiny changes year by year as your body yearns toward perfection, but the magical one, wherein every one of the pangs of youth and pathetic puberty are completed in one perfect night. I'm sure your parents can explain further, but first we must find and destroy Yasmeena."

  Poppy tilted her head to one side and thought for a moment, then replied with an abrupt nod. Isaiah and Legend side-eyed her, waiting silently for her to turn her attention to them.

  "Fine," she agreed, her voice taut and strained. "The sooner I am finally told everything the better. I'm tired of everyone treating me like some delicate thing that'll break as soon as I'm told the whole truth. Let's go." And just like that she turned on her heel and returned to the car.

  "I'll just go find Owen and bring him back so we can go home," Legend drawled in his deep Texas accent, dropping to all fours and flowing smoothly into his vulpine shape before loping away, disappearing among the forest shadows. Isaiah turned and slowly followed Poppy, his visage thoughtful as he stroked his chin. He had vague memories of being sat down by Owen and told the histories, and of being in disbelief until he read it for himself. Owen had taken him down into the "family crypt" at that point and led him to the statue of Actaeon, the original Shifter, carved of obsidian and accented with fire opal, volcanic rock, malachite azurite, and wearing a crown and armor crafted from orange calcite and silver rutile. The entire thing was taller than Isaiah (though not by much) at 6'2" and glimmered with a lifelike aura in the flickering light of the torch held aloft by Owen. The Alpha himself looked as proud as if he himself had carved the figure, his entire body straightening, his head held high.

  Isaiah stared into the distance as the memory played across his mind's eye, and Asveen paused slightly behind his shoulder, hesitating to draw the other man's attention away from whatever it was that had distracted him.

  "Isaiah?" Poppy's voice was bell-like as it floated across to them. She had turned, her hand on the door handle, and her eyebrows were knit into a deep line as she gazed back at the two men. Her entire focus was on the Pack's healer, and her hand dropped to her side as she began to return. "Isaiah, is something wrong?"

  With a deep breath and a sigh, the man seemed to awaken, his focus going first to the young woman in front of him before he startled, glancing back at Asveen. The darker man clapped a hand to Isaiah's shoulder, lifting an eyebrow in askance. Isaiah gave a short, reassuring nod, first to Asveen and then to Poppy, following it up with a soft smile. Poppy returned the smile, her lips curving upward slightly despite the fact that she was still annoyed at having been left out of so many secrets involving not only herself but her entire family. She popped the door handle and slid inside, buckling the seatbelt across herself and holding it down away from her neck with her right arm. She disliked the feeling of the sharp-edged, plastic-like material cutting into the tender flesh of her neck and throat. Isaiah eyed her setup with a displeased eye as he, too, buckled in, his fingers grazing her hip as he clipped the belt into place. Asveen slid in beside him as Legend and Owen hopped in their respective seats up front.

  The tires skidded slightly on the gravel as Owen put the vehicle in gear, angling back toward the road and home

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Owen had promised, during the return drive, to tell everyone the tale of their beginnings, the myths behind Jasmine/Yasmeena, everything-but only after things had settled down. So it was that Poppy had taken a long, nearly scalding shower (because simply having it hot wasn't enough, as the water had felt barely lukewarm against her skin), changed into a soft pair of heather grey sweatpants and a cropped white camisole with hot pink straps, and taken a bottle of lime green nail polish downstairs to apply on her bare toes after starting a cup of Lady Grey tea steeping on the counter. She settled her bum onto the couch, one foot propped against the edge of the kitchen chair she had hefted (quite easily) into the living room. She shook the bottle and began to unscrew the lid.

  "Hey, hold up! Nonononono, Owen'll kick your ass if you accidentally get that crap on the upholstery." Legend pulled the chair away and plopped down, taking hold of Poppy's bare ankle and tugging her foot onto his lap. He snapped his fingers at her and waggled his hand in a "gimme" gesture. With a moue of something like displeased acceptance, she handed him the polish. He grimaced at the color, glanced at her face, and shrugged as he twisted off the cap, expertly stroking the brush against the lip of the little vial and leaning over her foot. "It ain't my poison of choice, but whatever."

  Legend had a very precise touch with the brush, making long and incredibly even strokes with the concentration of a master artist, not getting even a hint of color on her skin. Within mere minutes both feet were finished, the lid was back on, and Legend was holding one delicate foot in both hands as he blew gently on her toenails. His hands were hot and before long Poppy fe
lt her eyes trying to drift closed to the blissful attention as he tenderly massaged each foot, paying special care to the instep.

  "Your tea, milady?"

  Poppy's eyes flew open as she startled, flailing her arm and nearly smacking Isaiah's nose as he leaned close to her ear. He leapt back, cradling her teacup and somehow not spilling a single drop.

  "Oh! God-I'm sorry, Isaiah, I guess I drifted off. I've just been craving heat lately and Legend's hands are so warm..."

  "Hey, don't worry about it." He knelt beside her, setting the cup on the end table and reaching for Poppy's hand. "Are you feeling okay?"

  Poppy gave her head a shake. "I don't know for sure," she replied softly. "I had to turn the heat in the shower to maximum because my usual felt, well, tepid. And just now Legend's hands felt so nice and warm. I felt like my feet were freezing."

  Legend smirked over her head at Isaiah at her comment, and the blue-eyed shifter rolled his eyes before returning his full attention to Poppy.

  "How about now? How do you feel now?"

  "My head feels cool but the rest of me feels like I'm about to walk into a fire," she said. She turned frightened eyes on the healer. "Is that bad?"

  Isaiah's lips pressed together into a thin line. He steadied his gaze on their hands where his thumb slid back and forth across her knuckles in a soothing rhythm as he considered how to answer her.

  "Nnno, no it isn't necessarily bad, love," he responded. He met her eyes with a wan smile. "It means that your first shift is getting nearer. Nothing to be too concerned over-after all, we're here to ensure your safety and an easier time of it. The first is always the roughest." Poppy made a soft whimper of dismay, and Isaiah drew upward, gently tugging her head down and laying a tender kiss on her temple. He smoothed her hair, suddenly damp with sweat as her temperature again ramped up a few notches.

  "Will it hurt?" She asked, her voice wavering as tears threatened. Isaiah and Legend both offered small smiles as they petted her head, stroked their fingers softly down her arm. Legend slowly shook his head as Isaiah consoled her.

  "No," he murmured. "You'll be very hungry over the next few days as your metabolism adjusts. You'll likely alternate between extremely tired and almost-for lack of a better term-high. The rollercoaster that is your temperature will even out within the next twenty-four hours. It's probably best if you were to head upstairs and sleep for a bit."

  "But Owen-"

  "I will inform the Alpha that in my medical opinion you needed bedrest and relaxation for a few hours. The Jasmine situation will keep-I don't really think she's going to go far. She wants you, and I doubt she'll leave until she achieves her aim. Go on." Poppy stood and guzzled her now-cold tea, then began walking past the two men, but didn't escape without a soft swat from Legend.

  "We got a weird little cat around here somewhere," he called after her as she trudged sleepily up the stairs. "He's real warm and cuddly. If I find him I'll set him in bed with ya."

  She nodded and sent them both a tiny smile before turning the corner to her room, closing the door to within a few inches.

  Isaiah swiveled disbelievingly to Legend, searching those all-too-innocent green eyes.

  "Why mention the cat? The damn cat hasn't wanted to make an appearance for weeks now."

  Legend smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to gaze up the stairs after Poppy.

  "Well, then, this would be an opportune time for the damn cat to return, wouldn't it? If the universe is kind, she'll send him back."

  Isaiah growled and stalked away, leaving Legend chuckling in his wake.

  POPPY CHANGED RATHER sluggishly into a pair of grey terry shorts and a soft pink shirt that read "breaker-breaker 1-9" on the front in ombre shades of grey. The shirt was obviously well-loved, the fabric thin and the ink faded. She set her phone and its accompanying purple headphones on her bed and vanished into the bathroom to complete her before-bed ablutions. She was returning to her room when Owen appeared at the end of the hall, having just exited his own room. He was carding the fingers of one hand through his hair, his gaze a thousand miles away. But when he saw her he motioned her away with a distracted smile, and she smiled back, gratefully pulling the door partially closed behind herself. The soft yellow light of the single lamp welcomed her, and she peeled the covers back as she scooted beneath them.

  She was sleepily rubbing the side of her fevered face against the soft pillow when there came a knock on her door. She pried her heavy eyelids open and gazed blearily at Legend, who swaggered in and deposited a barely-there ball of heartily purring something beside her. She blinked in his general direction and smiled, and the man offered her a smirk as he tousled her hair before leaving the room.

  "Hey, kitty," she said, her voice sounding drunk even to her own ears. She waggled an arm out from under the covers and gently curled it around the cat, hauling it closer. The creatures rumbled contentedly as it settled in and Poppy's eyes fell shut.

  The cat smiled when the teenager-turned-twenty-something began snoring.

  "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" CATO asked, his hands resting firmly on her shoulders. Poppy backed up a step, rubbing her arm and staring sheepishly at his shoes. She liked that style, like hiking boots but with a decidedly sneaker twist. He leaned forward a bit, letting his hands fall back to his sides, as though he needed to be close to her to ensure himself that she was indeed alright.

  "I'm fine," Poppy replied. She met his eyes, narrowing her gaze. "So you're here again-does this mean I'm going to age again?"

  "Again?...oh. Ohh. I forgot about that part. Poppy, it wasn't because I came here, to see you in your dreams. I don't doubt that was the catalyst, but it wasn't the reason. See, you're a pureblood, like me. It's why I can communicate with you like this, it's why you attained your True Age so fast. I bet you started showing symptoms of your first Change, too, didn't you?"

  Poppy scratched her temple and shoved her hair away from her face. "Yeah. Fever, then chills. I'm stupid hungry, ha. I could probably eat a whole buffalo right now."

  Cato chuckled, his shoulders shaking. "Just wait. After you Shift for the first time you probably will."

  The world around them began to glow brighter and Cato stepped close to Poppy, pulling her into his warmth. He propped his chin on her head, even though he had to bend down some distance to achieve it, and closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent. Similarly, Poppy was breathing in the woodsy musk that was Cato as she threaded her hands between his shirt and the leather jacket he wore.

  "Dawn is coming. I'll have to go again."

  "I know."

  "Listen. About Jasmine. I don't know much, but she's hiding. I heard my Alpha talking about it. All the North American packs have been alerted to be on the watch for her. She won't get far. And-for what it's worth-I don't think she killed your folks. Just something my Alpha mentioned, but-tell Owen, okay? It's good that they all know that you talk to me, that I visit you." He kissed the top of her head and pulled away, lifting one of her hands to his mouth for a kiss. "Stay safe. I'll visit you again as soon as I can."

  Poppy's eyes flew open, her fingers buried in warm, vibrating fur, a peaceful smile on her pink lips.

  "I dreamed about him again, kitty." She said quietly. The cat lifted its head and gazed at her, huge liquid amber eyes studying her face. It stood with that smooth, surreally lithe motion that cats possess, turning in on itself and approaching her slowly, those eyes never leaving hers. She continued gently stroking the extremely silky fur, marveling at the gorgeous orange-yellow coat with its pattern of stripes and spots, dissolving into a fit of giggles as the creature's long whiskers tickled her nose. "Well, hi," she whispered, rubbing behind the cat's ears. She heard a familiar rippling, whooshing sound, the weight across her body exponentially increased, and suddenly she was holding Isaiah's face between her palms, staring into his wide eyes as the amber darkened and bled away to be replaced by the usual twinkling cerulean. His pupils dilated exactly as a cat's would as he leaned forward an
d flicked his still slightly-raspy tongue over the tip of her nose, the final shivers from his Shift leaving him.

  "Tag," he whispered thickly, "you're it."

  As he fled the room Poppy considered how glad she was that their clothes made the shift with them.

  And yet, also, vaguely disappointed.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  "YOU'RE A CAT?" SHE shrieked, thundering down the stairs as she shrugged into her robe. It was soft, fluffy, pale pink-and had been living at the back of the closet. She hadn't noticed it until now.

  Reaching the bottom step she skidded to a halt, hand gripping the smooth round finial as her eyes flicked across the broad expanse of the room. Her gaze fell on Legend, who stood with one hip perched against the back of the couch, a massive coffee mug to hand, his smoldering eyes fixed on her.

  "Good mornin', Sunshine." He drawled, pursing his lips to blow the steam from his beverage. "Sleep well?"

  "You knew Isaiah was a cat and you stuck him in my bed." She gritted at him accusingly. He grinned in response, raising his mug in salute.

  "Sure did, darlin'. Only he ain't so much a cat really. More like-"

  "An ocelot." Isaiah stood awkwardly framed in the doorway, his broad, long-fingered hand threading through his hair. "I'm an ocelot. If you throw a ball of yarn, my pupils will dilate and I will have an extremely strong urge to chase it." His blue eyes met Poppy's chestnut ones, and he offered her a sheepish grin. "Please don't throw a ball of yarn."

  Legend smirked. "Go ahead. It's fun."

  Poppy gaped back and forth between them before shaking her head and tossing her hands in the air helplessly. "I give up," she muttered. "Everything in this house is nuts. Including me. So what am I going to become, huh? Is there any way to tell?"