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.”