Bowman looked leisurely up at her—he’d have known the moment she walked into the house. His gaze was unworried, and he was completely relaxed, hands resting calmly on the sheets. He was conveying to Kenzie that there was nothing at all in this room to worry about, but Kenzie’s Shifter instincts roared to life.

Mine. Her hands started to sprout claws, and her skin prickled, fur wanting to come out.

The vet looked up. “Hey,” she said in a friendly tone. “You’re Kenzie, right? I just popped by to make sure Bowman was doing all right.”

Kenzie couldn’t speak. If she did, whatever came out would be unintelligible, or possibly an all-out wolf howl as she went for the kill.

Bowman knew it. He pinned her with his cool stare, the one he used when he planned to make the world obey. Even Kenzie had to stop in her tracks when he wore that look.

His eyes changed from warm gray to cold, his face so still it might be carved from granite. The damaged leg and the woman petting it didn’t exist for him. His world narrowed to Kenzie, his gaze commanding her not to gut the nice vet with the blond hair.

Ryan tensed, sensing the silent battle between his parents. Kenzie saw Ryan shiver, the tiny cub inside him wondering whether he’d have only one parent when the confrontation was over. Which one would it be, and what would he do?

Kenzie’s maternal instinct slammed against the mate’s instinct, and the mother won. “Ryan,” she said, surprised her voice sounded almost normal. “Will you come outside and help me with something?”

She held out her hand. Ryan flashed a glance at Bowman, who gave him the barest nod.

Ryan slid off the chair with the energy of youth and walked to Kenzie. Walked, she noted. A few years ago, he would have darted to her side. Now Ryan wanted to show more self-reliance. Her heart squeezed.

The touch of Ryan’s hand in hers calmed her. Ryan must have realized that, so he didn’t try to pull away after a brief clasp. Instead, he locked his hand around Kenzie’s and walked her out of the room. Who was helping whom, Kenzie couldn’t say.

She and Ryan went out into the backyard, where Kenzie dragged in a long breath. Ryan carefully let go of her hand, watching her as though to see whether she’d stay here, calming herself, or run back inside and rip out the vet’s throat.

“You all right, Mom?” he asked.

“Yes.” She took another breath, letting the serenity of the tall trees soothe her. “I’ll be fine.” Far down the row of widely spaced houses, other cubs were playing. One waved to Ryan, then stood up and waited to see if he’d come over.

Ryan acknowledged his friend and shot a question at his mother.

“Go,” she said, putting amusement in her voice. “I promise I won’t kill anyone.”

“It’s not like that, Mom,” Ryan said. “I was watching.”

No doubt he had been, and no doubt he was right. Not much got past Ryan. “Thank you,” Kenzie said sincerely. “Go. Be back for supper.”

Relieved of the duty of guarding his parents, Ryan ran off toward his friend’s yard. He ran fast, the strength in his legs, which she swore grew longer every day, apparent.

They were the luckiest Shifters, Kenzie thought as she watched Ryan. Unlike other Shifters around the country, who’d been stuck into the slum ends of cities, their Shiftertown had been built in deep woods, in an abandoned housing project from early in the last century.

The houses were surrounded by old-growth forests, with trees that reached several hundred feet, branches reaching out well above the floor of the woods to provide a roof of green. Pine needles carpeted the ground, inches thick. The air always smelled slightly damp but cool, and wind perpetually creaked in the trees high above.

Clean air, far from giant industrial cities, and mountains rising to surround them in beauty at all times. The small houses had been originally built with a woodsy theme, their walls fabricated to look like split logs rather than actually being split logs from any trees around here. In summer, this area could be hot, the air turning dank and humid. Winters, on the other hand, could be fairly mild, with dustings of snow to keep everything moist.

Shiftertowns were places of confinement, but this Shiftertown had always felt welcoming to Kenzie. She’d been to others that made her uncomfortable, but here she’d found home. Didn’t matter that she wore a Collar and couldn’t run free—yet, Bowman would always add—she’d discovered a sort of peace here.

Her clan had come from Romania, in the wilds of the mountains there, which was perhaps why she liked this Shiftertown in the middle of nowhere. But here, Kenzie was no longer alone. In Romania, she’d been part of the clan run by her formidable uncle Cristian and dominated by her grandmother, Afina. Kenzie’s immediate family, however, had all passed when she’d been a tiny cub. Lonely and withdrawn, she’d known no one but her cousins, and since Shifters couldn’t mate within the clan, and Uncle Cristian wasn’t letting her out of his sight, she thought she’d never find a mate of her own.

Then Shifters had been outed, the clan had been rounded up, and Uncle Cristian’s Shifters had been herded to the States and this Shiftertown.

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.