Kenzie tried to answer, but she gulped on sobs instead. She shook her head.

Panic welled up inside him. “I can’t do this alone, Kenz. I’ll keep you with me, I swear it, even if I have to chain you to the bed.”

Kenzie managed a watery smile. “Please do.”

A sound of anguish came from Bowman’s throat. He caught her in his arms and buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering.

He wanted to go on arguing, to plead with her, to command her, but he had no words left. He was shaking all over, his face wet. Dimly he felt her hands in his hair, soothing, but Bowman would never be soothed again.

“What are we going to do?” Kenzie whispered.

“I don’t know.” There was no solution to this, no precedent. He’d never known anyone in his hundred and fifty years of life who’d successfully fought the mate bond. No one had ever tried to fight it—no one had ever wanted to.

No one except Kenzie. That must mean something, Bowman thought. But he was afraid to hope, because he knew how devastated he’d be if even that little hope was dashed.

* * *

They ended up sleeping curled together on top of the bed. Kenzie woke with her nose in Bowman’s warm chest, his sweatshirt soft against her skin.

The morning had advanced, sunlight trickling through the windows. Kenzie was sore, from both the crazy lovemaking in the woods and lying on the bed tucked against Bowman.

She tried to unfold herself, to slip out without waking him, but when she raised her head, it was to see Bowman’s gray eyes looking into hers.

They gazed at each other for a long time, neither speaking. Kenzie had hoped that with their waking, the bond she’d felt inside her would have faded, would have been a mistake. Heartburn, she’d told Gil. They’d feasted on barbecued ribs after the sun ceremony yesterday—could have been the food.

As she studied Bowman, though, she felt it, unmistakably warm, waiting to flood her with happiness. Bowman must have read that in her eyes, because pain rose in his.

Kenzie felt tears coming again. Bowman shook his head. He gently kissed the top of her head and got himself off the bed, coming to his feet. He folded his arms as he looked down at her, shutting himself off.

“If you have to go to him, Kenzie, don’t say good-bye. Just go.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Kenzie answered, her voice weak.

“You might not have a choice. But Ryan stays with me.”

Kenzie felt as though someone had stepped on her with a large, heavy boot. “I know.”

Shifter law dictated that a leader’s son remained with his father, unless the son would be in mortal danger if he did. That wasn’t the case here. Bowman would never hurt Ryan.

Kenzie wasn’t sure where she’d go. Human law dictated that she couldn’t simply leave Shiftertown, and Gil wasn’t Shifter. He lived somewhere in . . .

Kenzie realized she had no idea where he lived. Well, he’d just have to move to Shiftertown, if this were real. She didn’t want to be too far from her cub.

She could simply refuse the mate bond altogether. As she’d just told herself, Gil wasn’t Shifter. He didn’t understand the implications. She’d talk with him and tell him that humans didn’t have to live by Shifter rules, and she was staying put.

Kenzie’s head liked this idea, but her body, she knew, would rebel. The mate bond wasn’t logic or reason, and it wasn’t quite the same as falling in love. Similar, but not the same.

The mate bond was a basic compulsion left over from feral days, when they’d been bred as fighting beasts. A mate bond ensured that two Shifters latched on to each other and didn’t let go. They’d fight for each other, protect each other to the death, give in to the mating frenzy, and raise plenty of cubs. To deny the mate bond brought physical pain, relieved only when the couple surrendered to it.

There was magic in the bond, not just a chemical reaction. Gil might not be affected as much, being human, even with his shaman magic, but it could tear Kenzie apart.

She would fight it as hard as she could, regardless. Her mating with Bowman had been more than the two of them deciding to keep Shiftertown together. They’d needed each other—they’d both realized that.

If Kenzie left him, Bowman would have to find another mate, one who would help him keep Shiftertown stable. There were plenty of female Shifters who would be delighted to take up the position. Kenzie had seen that during the mating ceremony yesterday.

The burn of that thought threatened to combust Kenzie right there.

She rolled off the bed, grabbed clean underwear from her drawer, and strode into the bathroom. “I’m not leaving,” she called over her shoulder and slammed the door.

When she emerged, clean and damp, Bowman had gone. She found no trace of him in the house, though a coffee cup was now in the sink, the pot emptied and rinsed. The envelope of photos Gil had brought was gone too, as were Bowman’s leather jacket and motorcycle.

Kenzie blinked back another flood of tears, found her phone, and called Gil. He wasn’t there.

“Please call me back when you get this,” she said to his voice mail. “We need to talk.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The last person Bowman wanted to see this morning was Cristian, fearless leader of the Dimitru pack. But as soon as Bowman pulled up at the makeshift arena where they’d found the truck, Cristian was there.

Bowman had intended to do two things here—first, go over the ground again and find some answers. Second, shift to wolf and run until he dropped.

He knew damn well he was using the first as an excuse to do the second. He was breaking inside, and he needed to give in to his wolf, which was urging him to run until he could feel no more grief.

Bowman’s skin itched, his human form barely containing him. Having to face Cristian and his not-so-thinly veiled hostility wasn’t what he needed.

Bowman didn’t trust himself to speak, but Cristian was already talking, even as Bowman swung off his motorcycle.

“Have you come, as I have, to see if there are any more of these creatures wandering about?” Cristian asked, his breath fogging in the cold morning air. “The second monster, I mean. I speculated that they came in pairs.”

“Yes, I remember,” Bowman snapped.

“I have been here since the dawn. I have found many things.”

“Yeah?” Bowman made himself focus. “Like what?”