Mate Bond(38)

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."





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.