Mate Bond

by Jennifer Ashley

  And Kenzie had seen Bowman. She’d first caught sight of him across the gym of the closed school they’d been taken to. She’d seen a tall, tight-muscled Shifter in jeans and a sweatshirt, with tousled, short hair and movements that said he was more comfortable in his wolf form than his human one.

  He’d turned his head, as though he’d felt her gaze, and looked at her. A long look that burned the air—it didn’t matter how many Shifters or human soldiers moved between them. His eyes were light gray, she remembered; Bowman on the edge of shifting.

  He’d stood very still, looking at her, Kenzie gazing right back at him. She’d stared at him, and he at her, until one of Kenzie’s younger cousins had called to her, needing her.

  Bowman had let her go, but the slight nod of his head acknowledged her and the spark that had danced between them. His nod was also a dismissal, an indication that he considered her submissive to him, no matter that he’d never seen her before in his life.

  Arrogant, insufferable . . . Kenzie had muttered to herself, but for the rest of the time they’d spent in those temporary quarters, she hadn’t been able to keep her eyes off him.

  Bowman had been chosen as Shiftertown leader by the human government’s Shifter Bureau. Kenzie’s uncle Cristian hadn’t liked that one bit, because he’d thought that, being older and from a bigger clan, he should be leader of all Shiftertown. But the two other Lupine clans, smaller and less dominant, had conceded to Bowman’s authority. The Felines and bears had wanted to challenge Bowman to put one of their own in the top position, but the Shifter Bureau had decreed Bowman leader. In the human government’s view, that was good enough.

  Uneasy peace had ensued for a couple of years, but Uncle Cristian couldn’t leave well enough alone. Cristian was a dominant wolf, and he chafed under Bowman’s leadership. He was also a crafty devil, good at stirring up trouble. Kenzie had always been grateful to Uncle Cristian for taking her in, but she wasn’t blind to his personality. He could be a total bastard.

  It was too easy to return to wild ways out here, and Shifters over the next years had started reverting to clan loyalty above all else. Uncle Cristian had started turning the Lupines from the lesser clans against Bowman, even joining with Felines who wanted Bowman out. Bears always did their own thing, but after a while even they’d stopped agreeing to obey Bowman, even though Cade was already his second.

  Bowman kept everything together by his strength and his smarts, and all would have been right after a while, but the humans got wind of the problems. Kenzie had no doubt at all that Uncle Cristian and his most loyal trackers had made sure the humans had heard about the unrest in their Shiftertown.

  The humans had come to Bowman and given him an ultimatum. He either calmed things down, or they’d close this Shiftertown. They’d split up the clans, packs, and prides in order to fit them into other Shiftertowns, deciding that the dominant families would cause less trouble if they were scattered.

  When they’d gone, Bowman had walked over to Kenzie’s grandmother’s, where Kenzie had been living, strode straight into the kitchen, ignoring that it was the territory of a rival clan, and told Kenzie that he was taking her as mate.

  Kenzie had gotten in his face, saying she didn’t simply roll over and obey when an alpha wolf walked in the door.

  Never mind that her heart had been hammering like crazy, her breath gone, every need she possessed screaming at her to leap on him. She’d yelled at him—like hell she’d jump to obey him when he’d been fighting her uncle and every other Shifter in Shiftertown.

  His eyes had been white gray with rage, his hard face, with its brush of dark whiskers, speaking of years of kicking the asses of every Shifter who confronted him. But Kenzie wasn’t afraid of Bowman.

  And yet, she was. But her fear was more of herself, of something primal in her that responded to him.

  Female Shifters wanted him—human groupies did too. Bowman hadn’t been celibate—he’d satisfied his powerful libido plenty since they’d moved to this Shiftertown, and Kenzie had known it. But never with Kenzie.

  Bowman had stood his ground in that kitchen while Kenzie shouted at him. He simply watched her, just as he’d gazed at her that first night in the gym, as he’d looked at her every time they’d crossed paths in the five years since.

  Not until Kenzie ran out of words had she realized her grandmother and cousins had quietly departed. They’d left the house empty, and Bowman and Kenzie were alone.

  Bowman had waited until she’d finished, then he’d caught her around the waist and crushed a kiss to her mouth.

  She didn’t honestly remember how they’d gotten into the living room, but there she’d been with Bowman on the floor, her mating frenzy kicking into high gear. They’d torn off each other’s clothes, barely able to stay in human shape. Kenzie’s back hit the carpet, Bowman’s strong arms cushioning her fall, and then everything became a blur. She’d heard herself crying out, heard Bowman’s voice joining hers, as her body awakened into unbelievable pleasure.

  Her hands had gone down Bowman’s bare back, raking his flesh. His mouth bruised hers, his eyes, darkening as he’d taken her, not looking away, not letting her look away.

  They’d grappled on the carpet until Kenzie’s back was raw. Bowman spilled his seed into her with a groan, but he was hard again at once, and began thrusting again without withdrawing.

  All afternoon and well into the night they’d made love in that living room, sometimes rolling over so that Kenzie rode Bowman, his callused hands on her arms or cupping her breasts. They’d taken it to a chair when the floor got too hard, Kenzie just fitting into it with him.

  In the end, when the sun was rising and neither of them could move very much, Bowman had cupped Kenzie’s face in his hands.

  “You’re my mate,” he’d said in a voice broken by their long night.

  “Yes, all right,” Kenzie had growled, and that had been that.

  They’d been mated in the ceremony under the sun that day, and then held the moon ceremony at the next full moon. They’d said prayers to the Goddess in firelight, and then Kenzie had moved in with Bowman.

  Ryan had come along a few years later—a few years of almost constant mating frenzy, Bowman determined to produce a son. Ryan had been born robust and healthy, and beautiful. A gift from the Goddess.

  Kenzie now watched her son and his friends running together, small and far away, and her heart warmed. Her jealousy was winding down, as Bowman had known it would. Damn him.

  Her rage had eased, but the worry hadn’t. In spite of their joining for fifteen years, she and Bowman had never formed the mate bond. Shifters had been proving, in the last years, that they could form it with humans. So just because the vet in there was human didn’t mean she wasn’t a threat to Kenzie, her happiness, and her sanity.

  A pair of very strong arms came around her from behind. Kenzie stiffened as a hard body pressed into her back and Bowman nuzzled the curve of her neck.

  “Come on inside . . .” Bowman’s broken whisper trailed off. Kenzie bent her head to one side and closed her eyes, letting Bowman’s heat trickle down her body. He slid open the button of her jeans and eased his hand under her waistband.

  He inhaled, then his hand froze, and his whisper turned to a growl. “And who the hell have you been with?” he demanded. “His scent is all over you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kenzie swung around to face her mate, who was wearing nothing but a bathrobe, with a crutch under one arm, his leg back in the splint, murder in his eyes.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” she asked sharply. “You aren’t supposed to put any weight on that for at least two days.”

  Bowman pinned her with the stare that had stopped her in her tracks across the gym all those years ago. “Don’t go all caregiver on me, and tell me who you were with.”

  Rage had him standing straight, the crutch loose. His eyes were light gray, as though he wanted to shift; but if he did that, he’d hurt himself again.


  “I wasn’t with anyone,” Kenzie said. “You have a suspicious mind.”

  “And you weren’t looking the kill at Dr. Pat in there. Would not be good if you gutted her, Kenz.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t sitting with a guy letting him stroke my leg,” Kenzie returned. “I was talking to a cop, all right? One who stuffed me into his patrol car and asked me about what happened last night. He’s smart. He already knew most of it.”

  Bowman’s anger flared. “He stuffed you into his patrol car?”

  Kenzie waved her hands. “I exaggerate. He invited me to sit in the front seat with him. He was really polite while he interrogated me.”

  Bowman climbed down a little, but only a little. “What did you tell him?”

  “He already knew almost everything, like I said. The humans who were at the roadhouse last night have been talking. For now, the cops are just trying to figure out what happened.”

  “Trying to figure out how to blame it on Shifters, you mean.”

  “Maybe. He didn’t say.” Kenzie tried to relax, but with Bowman standing a step away, bare beneath the robe, she couldn’t. She felt the warmth of him through the fabric, smelled the comforting scent of male—of him. It made her want to flow against him, put her arms around him, forget this stupid conversation.

  “What did he say?” Bowman demanded.

  “He seemed like he wanted to help.” Kenzie’s foot moved to take her closer to Bowman. “Smarter than most cops—more common sense. He wants to work with us to figure this out.”

  Bowman had started to lean to her, closing the space between them, but he snapped upright again. “What do you mean, work with us?”

  “Pool information and skills. He thinks it’s stupid for humans and Shifters to not be allowed to help one another.”

  Bowman’s lip curled. “And you believed him?”

  “Not all humans suck, Bowman. I liked him.”

  “I know you did. I scent it on you.”

  Kenzie took the last step to put her directly against him. “Oh, right. And you hated that cute blond vet coming here to feel up your leg.”

  “She wasn’t . . .” Bowman’s brows slammed together. “Goddess, Kenzie, I wasn’t about to go all mating frenzy on her with my leg in a splint.”

  “If you’re so hurt, why the hell are you up walking around?”

  “I’m better,” he said tightly.

  They were face-to-face, Kenzie rising on her tiptoes so they’d be nose-to-nose. If he’d thought, fifteen years ago, that Kenzie would run to him like a meek little she-wolf, to sacrifice herself for the good of all Shifters, he’d learned better since—starting on day one, when he’d taken her home. He’d realized quickly that she wouldn’t simply roll over and expose her soft throat to him.

  Although that sounded kind of fun right now. Kenzie’s heart was pumping, her fingers tingling, the scent of her mate filling her.

  The only thing that kept her from leaping on him and sending them both to the ground was the fact that he was hurt.

  Kenzie’s anger softened. Bowman so rarely was injured. He had to be feeling vulnerable and hating it. If a dominant Shifter challenged for his position right now, Bowman wouldn’t be able to fight him.

  That’s why he was outside, she realized. To show any watching Shifter how quickly he was healing. And Kenzie had left him alone today, taking his trackers with her.

  “Who’s been around?” she asked in sudden concern. “Uncle Cristian? If he’s bothered you, I’ll kick his ass.”

  “No one,” Bowman said. “They’re keeping their distance.”

  Kenzie glanced around. Trees shielded them from the house next door, and she didn’t scent any Shifter lurking in the woods around them. She noted the cubs playing down the road, their happy shouting floating to her.

  The only incongruous scent was the cloying one of the vet—what had Bowman called her? Dr. Pat. She no longer wore the perfume she had last night, but the woman’s scent was distinctive.

  And all over Kenzie’s mate.

  “Did Dr. Pat go home?” Kenzie asked sharply.

  Bowman came alert as he noted the change in her voice. “I sent her away, yes.”

  Of course. Dr. Pat wouldn’t be allowed to just leave, not under the jurisdiction of Bowman the überalpha. No one went until he decided.

  He didn’t get to decide everything.

  Kenzie flattened herself against him. “You’re still not healed.”

  “I know that.” Bowman’s breath was hot on her cheek. “I know that, Kenz.”

  A ripple of fire spread through her. Kenzie slid her hands inside Bowman’s loose robe, finding the tight warmth of his body, the vibrant power of him.

  She nuzzled his neck as she worked the robe open, taking a pinch of his skin between her teeth. Bowman made an mmm sound in his throat. Kenzie nipped him again, and licked where she’d bitten. She’d get rid of the other woman’s scent the most effective way she knew.

  Kenzie slid down his body to her knees, the robe opening on her way down. She paused at his large, bare cock, stiff and straight out, Bowman not oblivious to her attentions.

  Kenzie gave him a glance—more than a glance. Bowman hard was always worth a long, long look. Then she made herself focus on his hurt leg, stuck into the binding splint.

  The splint was hard plastic, fastened with Velcro, positioned to hold his limb as motionless as possible. The doctor at the local clinic was familiar with how quickly Shifters healed, and knew how to patch them up to not interfere with that healing. Bowman’s leg would be knit by the end of the day.

  Kenzie loosened the splint’s straps. Bowman leaned heavily on the crutch, but he said nothing as she peeled back the bindings so she could touch his bare skin.

  The main part of the splint, molded to the back of his thigh and calf, stayed in place. Kenzie skimmed her hands down the front of his leg, tracing the muscles of his thigh, around his knee, down his lower leg. Dark hair, silken yet wiry, curled around Kenzie’s fingers.

  The strength beneath the warm skin made her breath catch. She moved gently to where his bone had broken and rested her palm there, almost sensing the hurt beneath the muscle. Bowman tensed, his hand tightening on the crutch.

  His taut leg was tanned from bright North Carolina summers. The tan petered out around his hip and groin—Bowman wore a bathing suit whenever they went to the coast and the beaches. Shifters were happy being naked, but Bowman was always conscious of not pissing off too many humans.

  Thinking about how many women turned their heads when they saw Bowman walk by on the sand, his bare skin kissed by sunshine, the small pair of trunks covering his ass and not much else, made Kenzie growl again.

  Don’t touch. Don’t even look.

  She kissed his thigh, then ran her tongue up the tight ridge of muscle. Bowman sucked in a breath, one hand coming down to furrow her hair.

  Kenzie smoothed her fingers over his hurt leg again. Gentle, caressing, kneading, soothing. She bent and pressed another kiss to him, running her tongue over his skin. He tasted like warmth, salt, maleness.

  Bowman’s fingers tightened in her hair. “Damn you, Kenz,” he said softly.

  Kenzie caressed him all the way down to his ankle, then she looked up at him and smiled.

  Bowman growled. He hooked one hand under her arm and yanked her upward. She landed against his chest, his growl still rumbling.

  “Damn you,” he repeated. “Don’t smile at me like that.”

  “Like what?” Kenzie gave him an innocent look, but she couldn’t make the smile go away.

  “Like you’re the sexiest woman alive, and you know it.” His voice broke over her like the soothing waves of the ocean in summer. “Laughing at me, because you think I don’t understand what I’ve got.”

  Kenzie had no idea what he was talking about, and she didn’t care. She only knew the weight of his voice tumbling her as though she were a pebble in the sand.

  His arm was hard around her, Kenzie holding on to h
im to keep herself steady. He was the hurt one, but she used his strength to remain standing.

  “House,” he said. “Now.”

  Kenzie didn’t want to go inside. Bowman had been badly injured, and moving might hurt him again.

  Not that she had a choice. Bowman hauled her around with him and started walking. The crutch dug into the pine needles as Bowman braced himself on it and on Kenzie for the short distance to the kitchen door.

  The house was empty and shut out the cold. Bowman leaned more on Kenzie once they were inside, where no other Shifters could see them.

  “You need to rest,” she began.

  “I’ll rest when I’m done with you.” Bowman hobbled into the bedroom with her and collapsed on the bed, dropping the crutch in the process.

  His robe fell all the way open. Kenzie halted at the foot of the bed, her heart pounding swiftly.

  Bowman was stretched out full length, bronzed skin and dark hair against the white robe. The scrapes and abrasions he’d obtained last night had faded into light red lines across his skin, and his face was shadowed with new beard. In all this darkness, his gray eyes stood out like many-faceted diamonds.

  Something else stood out prominently. The pale splint couldn’t take away from the beauty of him spread out for Kenzie, his cock dark and hard, rigid against his abdomen.

  She wanted him with a wild longing—she still burned from their interrupted encounter last night.

  Kenzie slipped her shirt over her head without a second thought and tossed away the camisole beneath it. A few more quick movements had her out of her jeans and underwear. Now she was as bare as he was.

  Even with her wanting, she hesitated. “You sure you’re going to be all right?”

  “Goddess.” Bowman growled again. “Are you trying to kill me, Kenz? Get over here.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Kenzie obeyed, but only because she decided to. The alpha called his mate, but Kenzie took her time walking to the side of the bed, putting one knee on the mattress. As soon as she was within his reach, he’d haul her to him, and she knew it. She liked the thought, but he was injured.