Mate Bond

by Jennifer Ashley

  “It’s not a trick,” Gil said. “It’s real. Look inside yourself, Kenzie. You’ll see it’s true.”

  “No!” Kenzie backed another step, starting to shake. “I don’t have a mate bond with you. I can’t have. I can’t.”

  Gil only stood there. The light in the living room was suddenly garish, hurting her eyes. Another being seemed to transpose itself with Gil, looking like him but stained with harsh magic she didn’t understand.

  “What are you?” Kenzie shouted. “You’re one of the fucking Fae, I knew it!”

  Gil’s face darkened. “I told you I wasn’t. Don’t insult me. Call me any name you want, but for the Goddess’s sake, not Fae.”

  Kenzie pointed a rigid finger at the front door. “Get out of my house!”

  “You’ve been in denial since the day I met you, Kenzie. Open your eyes and look around.” Gil came to her, and Kenzie couldn’t move. He smelled of the woods and the night, and a faint tang of magic. “I know it’s a lot to take in.” He touched her chest again, and Kenzie’s breath caught. She felt the heat, and she couldn’t pull away. “Think about it awhile. I’ll be around when you want to talk.”

  Kenzie’s throat closed up. “Please, go away.”

  “I’m going, don’t worry.” Gil leaned forward and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. The little smile he sent her broke her heart.

  He left then, disappearing out the door so quickly she barely saw him go. Kenzie was left alone with two mostly filled bottles of beer, a wrinkled manila envelope, and confused thoughts whirling through her brain.

  She couldn’t have formed the mate bond with Gil. She couldn’t have. She barely knew him. He wasn’t Shifter.

  Cold reason made her discard the arguments as quickly as they came. Shifters could form the mate bond the instant they met their true mate. They could form it with humans and half humans—hell, the Guardian of the Austin Shiftertown had mate bonded with a Shifter who was half Fae.

  Kenzie loved Bowman. He was her mate. It would kill her to leave him. It would kill Ryan.

  No. She couldn’t. It couldn’t happen. Not like this.

  Gil had said she’d been in denial since she’d met him, and maybe she had. Kenzie had felt something when she’d sat in Gil’s car, a feeling that she could talk to him as though they were old friends, even though she’d never seen him before in her life.

  Of course Kenzie denied the mate bond with him. It was all wrong.

  Her thoughts went to Bowman, smiling at her in the darkness. We’re good together, you and me.

  The memory of his rumbling voice, the warm weight of him as he lay on her in the woods, broke her. Kenzie collapsed to the sofa, all strength leaving her, and she cried as she’d never cried in her life.

  * * *

  Cristian wandered Shiftertown, both irritated and amused at the carryings-on of the Shifters around him. A person would think Shifters never had sex except on mating ceremony nights, but this was not the case. Shifters used any excuse to do the deed.

  Cristian was no celibate, but he chose his partners carefully. He was pack and clan leader, and female Shifters were always looking for a high-ranking male to give them cubs. Cristian was older than many of the Shifters in this town, but it didn’t matter. To a mate-seeking female, he was a walking target.

  But since his mate had gone, so long ago now, taking half his heart with him, Cristian had kept his relationships physical, nothing more. The animal in him needed to relieve basic needs, but he never let things go beyond that.

  His beloved Melita had been his life. They’d had forty years together before she’d been shot by a human hunter, mistaken for one of the wolves that had been attacking livestock on nearby farms. She’d died in his arms, and Cristian had kissed her lips before the Guardian had sent her to dust.

  Cristian had taken his vengeance on the humans who’d killed her, then disappeared into the wilds for a long time to grieve. Kenzie had found him out there and persuaded him to come home.

  She’d been a cub, orphaned, alone, a leggy little wolf with rumpled hair. Adorable. Cristian had followed her back and tried to continue his life.

  Now Kenzie was in pain, and he knew it. Bowman was a good leader—Cristian hated to admit it—but Kenzie hurt whenever she looked at the asshole. Cristian would have to do something about that.

  And about all the crap that was going on around here. If Bowman didn’t get it done, and fast, Cristian would do it for him.

  In fact, he’d start now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Bowman returned from patrolling Shiftertown once the sun was rising and Shifters were crawling home. Some slept where they dropped. Lumps of fur littered the ground, Shifters snoring it off.

  Bowman had realized long ago that being leader meant he didn’t always get to join in the revelry. He protected the perimeter so that his Shifters could let loose and enjoy themselves.

  Kenzie often patrolled with him, the two of them sharing the quiet while Shiftertown partied behind them. Now that the party was over, Bowman headed home, intending to make up for missing out—with Kenzie. Ryan was safely with Afina, and they’d have the house to themselves.

  When he entered the kitchen through the back door, all was silent. The old-fashioned percolator coffeepot sat on the counter, its lid off, the scent of cold coffee lingering in the room. The coffee table he saw through the open space to the living room held two open bottles of beer, but no one seemed to be around. Bowman did a quick inhale and scented human male over the familiar scents of the house. A particular human male. Gil.

  The door to the bedroom he shared with Kenzie was closed. Bowman strode immediately to it, his killing instincts flaring high. His Collar bit a warning spark deep into his skin, but he ignored it.

  He was sick to his stomach as he reached for the doorknob. He did not want to open that door and find Gil with Kenzie, but at the same time he needed to let the world know that any man who touched his mate would be ripped in half.

  Bowman swallowed bile, ignored a second spark from his Collar, and entered the room.

  Kenzie sat cross-legged in the middle of the unrumpled bed. She was dressed in jeans and a tank top, her arms bare, though the room was cool. She had a wad of crumpled tissues in her hand, and she didn’t look up when Bowman came in.

  “Kenzie, what’s wrong?” he asked, his heart pounding. His Collar quieted, but his fears surged. “What happened?”

  Kenzie raised her head. Her eyes were red, her nose swollen, her cheeks tear-streaked. “Gil.” She started to say more, but a sob caught in her chest.

  Bowman came all the way into the room, to the bed. “What did he do to you? Did he touch you? I’ll kill him.” He felt faint surprise that Kenzie hadn’t turned a man who assaulted her into so much raw hamburger, but he waited for her to explain.

  Kenzie shook her head. “It’s not his fault. Killing him won’t help.”

  “What isn’t his fault?” Bowman put his fingers under Kenzie’s chin and forced her to look up at him.

  She didn’t want to. She tried to turn her head and avoid his gaze, something Kenzie simply did not do. She always glared Bowman down, and be damned to him.

  Kenzie finally looked at him, her eyes red with weeping. “Bowman, do you feel the mate bond?”

  She’d never asked him straight out before. When they’d gone through the mating ceremonies and spent their first night together as mates, they’d watched each other closely, to see, even teased about it a little. Which of them would be the first to feel it?

  As days stretched to weeks, and then months, they’d stopped talking about it. If it happened, then it would happen. The Goddess bestowed blessings in her own time. They’d stopped talking about having cubs as well.

  Bowman stilled at Kenzie’s question, not daring to think anything. He focused his awareness to the inside of his chest, which others, including Marcus tonight, had told him was where the feeling started. A burning or itching sensation, they said, which then brought on a
stab of joy.

  Bowman felt nothing, only the wild beating of his heart. Terror clenched his gut, and he slowly shook his head.

  Kenzie let out an anguished sob. She pounded at her chest, her fingers curling, tearing at her shirt. “I want it to go away. I want it to go away.”

  Bowman’s insides roiled. He sat on the edge of the bed as his legs went weak.

  “What are you saying, Kenzie?” He made himself get the thought out. “You feel a mate bond? With someone else?”

  “I don’t know.” Her words were hoarse, her tears clogging her voice. “I want it to be with you. I don’t want it with anyone else.”

  Bowman’s hands clenched so hard his nails creased his flesh. “Gil was here. Is it him?”

  Kenzie was silent except for her quiet crying. Tears streamed from her eyes, her face twisted in sorrow.

  Gil. Bowman would kill the fucker. He was a dead shithead walking.

  “Not his fault,” Kenzie choked out. “He doesn’t understand.”

  “He understands a hell of a lot more than he lets on. Why’d he come here tonight? To tell you he felt a mate bond with you?”

  “To leave information on Serena and the monster.” Kenzie’s voice shook, then dropped to a whisper. “And to ask me about the mate bond.”

  Bowman let out his breath. Son of a bitch. Gil had come here to find out what he was feeling inside, to have Kenzie explain it to him, and Kenzie realized . . .

  Bowman wanted to fold up into a little ball and never come out. At the same time, he wanted to howl his misery.

  Kenzie and Ryan were the joys of his life, the constants that kept him from saying screw this shit, pulling off his Collar, and running away into the wilds again. He’d become leader young, having to be convinced to take up the mantle of leadership by lesser members of his pack. Bowman had preferred tearing through the woods as wolf to going to pack meetings.

  He’d never really settled down, and he’d nearly gone insane when they’d first put a Collar on him. He’d have preferred to kill Cristian in a battle to the death over Shiftertown, but Bowman had known that if he gave in to that impulse, all the other Shifters would have been rounded up and punished for his deed.

  The better solution had been to storm to Afina’s house, grab hold of Kenzie, and convince her to become his mate. He’d never regretted the choice, and Kenzie hadn’t either.

  Kenzie grounded him. Her touch, her kiss, her scent, made everything bad go away. The wild animal in him calmed with Kenzie, allowing him to think, to feel things besides ferocity and frustration.

  Now, because of some stupid instinct they couldn’t control, he could lose her.

  “No.” Bowman got to his knees on the bed, cupping Kenzie’s face in his hands. Her tears tracked over his thumbs. “I won’t let you go to him. I can’t. I need you.”

  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.”

  CHAP
TER 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?”

  Instead of answering, Cristian peered at Bowman’s motorcycle, then behind him to the dirt road. “Where is my niece? She would be helpful in this.”

  Bowman turned his head abruptly so Cristian wouldn’t see his face, and pretended to scan the area. “She’s busy. So am I. Just tell me what you found.”

  “Tracks. They tell a story.”

  “What tracks?” Bowman made himself pay attention. He had a job to do; hurting would have to be pushed aside for later. “We checked all over the place and didn’t find any tracks, except the ones the sniper made, but they were way over there.” He pointed.

  “That is because they weren’t here then. These are new.”

  Bowman faced Cristian again. “Someone’s come back? Why?”