As much as the world tried to humanize Shifters, as much as Shifters presented themselves as human in order to reassure the world, they were still animals. As animals, they had a heightened instinct to survive and to protect their immediate families, at any cost.

Kenzie sat in the dark in bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, as she heard Bowman go into Ryan’s room. She knew he’d cross to the bed and look down at Ryan asleep for a moment, then smooth his hair or press a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room and softly closing the door.

Bowman entered their bedroom, where Kenzie waited, and halted on the threshold. All the lights in the house were out, but Bowman could see fine in the dark.

“I thought you’d be asleep.” He came inside and shut the door, and Kenzie let out her tense breath. She’d worried he’d turn away when he saw her awake, to go sleep on one of the living room couches.

“I couldn’t,” she said. “I wondered if you found out anything.”

“Not much.” Fabric whispered as Bowman’s clothes slid from him, his belt clinking in the darkness. “The driver for the trucking company did steal the truck, but he sold it pretty quickly. Then he got caught boosting another truck and has spent the last six months in prison.” Kenzie heard his jeans hit the floor. “He’s not involved in this, as far as I can tell.”

Kenzie tried to keep her tone conversational as Bowman approached the bed, though her heart was pounding. “Who did he sell the truck to?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out. Pierce is on it, along with all the Guardians, on their network. I also called Eric and Liam.” He made a sound like a grunt. “Because you know how much I love talking to other Shiftertown leaders.”

Kenzie smothered a laugh. Eric was the leader of the Las Vegas Shiftertown, and a Feline, and Bowman didn’t much like Felines. But then all Shiftertown leaders were competitive with one another. They could work together, but the heightened awareness in a roomful of leaders gave off a distinctive odor.

“Did they know anything?” she asked.

“Nope. They’ve never heard of a creature like it. A griffin, or whatever.”

Bowman got into bed as he spoke, bashing his pillows into shape as usual. Kenzie knew he wouldn’t act awkward, or apologize for his outburst at the arena, or defend himself in any way. He’d carry on as though nothing had happened.

That’s what they always did. If they kept their relationship businesslike, all was well. As soon as they moved into emotions, everything went to hell.

“Both Liam and Eric want to send a couple of their Shifters to help us look around,” Bowman said. “I told them I’d think about it.”

Kenzie adjusted for Bowman’s bulk in the bed, the sheet sliding from her bare torso. “An outsider’s perspective might be useful. They both have good trackers.”

“I said I’d think about it.” Bowman resolutely closed his eyes. “Go to sleep. We have a lot more to do tomorrow.”

He pulled the covers up over his chest and pretended to drift off.

Kenzie sat still and watched him. Her Shifter sight let her see him in the darkness, his bronzed shoulders and hands against the pale sheet, his eyes closed, hiding their glitter from her. His lashes were thick and very black, curling against his tanned face.

She knew he wasn’t sleeping by the rigidness of his hands, which clenched the sheet. When Bowman slept, his fingers relaxed, the powerful grip finally calming. His breathing would deepen, his chest rising and falling in long, slow cycles. Bowman also snored when he slept hard, a fact he fervently denied.

At the moment, his fingers were stiff, his breathing shallow and quiet.

Kenzie slowly and carefully eased herself down beside him. She slid down farther without disturbing the sheets, until her nose was level with the heat of his bare hip.

Before he could reach down and stop her, Kenzie locked her hand around his far hip, raised her head, and did what she’d dreamed of doing out by the arena today. Bowman’s cock was already hard, so he had to be thinking about it too.

“No.” Bowman jumped, his hands coming down to push her away.

Too late. Kenzie was already rubbing her tongue along the underside of his cock, reveling in the dark taste of him.

The grip that Bowman meant to stop her instead closed on her hair, his fingers threading it. “Kenzie, you little shit,” he whispered.

Kenzie smiled as she worked him into her mouth. The sheet trapped her, as did his hands, but Kenzie didn’t care. She was nestled in a warm cocoon with her mate, darkness, and the fine feel and taste of his cock.

As she licked, nipped, and suckled, the smooth head bumped her lips, her nose. She nuzzled him, his skin wet from her tongue, and wanted to laugh.

“Goddess and God.” Bowman spoke with jaw clenched. “Damn you . . .”

Kenzie kept on him. His hips moved under her mouth, Bowman wanting to thrust. He’d come any minute, and she’d swallow him, the seed of her beloved mate.

But it wasn’t meant to be. Bowman reached down, seized her, and dragged her up and out from under the covers. She couldn’t fight the strength of him, not when he was like this—needing and angry.

He had her down on the mattress before Kenzie could say a word, his mouth on hers, his knee forcing her legs open. Then he was inside her, every Shifter inch of him. Their hips rocked together, sweat making his fingers slick where he held down her wrists.

Bowman thrust into her, this loving rapid and fierce, until he came, snarling, and fell on top of her, breathing hard.

Kenzie smoothed his hair, her own climax quiet this time, but still powerful.

Bowman’s head was cradled on her breasts when sleep finally took him. His grip relaxed, his hands growing slack, but Kenzie never moved, drifting off to sleep in the strong embrace of her mate.

* * *

Bowman’s cell phone going off dragged him awake before daylight.

He rolled out of bed to grab the phone from the pocket of his jeans, his body protesting. Only a little of his soreness was residual from his injured leg—frantic sex with his mate always took its toll.

Bowman was highly aware of Kenzie sitting up in the dark behind him, the sheet hugging her breasts. Her eroticism was like a stinging slap. He could never ignore her.

Nor could he ignore the insistent phone. Shifters didn’t have access to the scores of ringtones humans did, so it gave a shrill, tinny brr-brr. Bowman had noticed, as he noticed everything, that humans, given the huge selection of sounds their phones could make, stuck overall with the same few.