Time passed, though Ammon wasn’t sure how much, as Kohana remained with Matwau’s corpse and Ammon lay on the ground, his burns aching. At long last, Kohana transformed from bear to human. No tears stained the other man’s tan cheeks, but his once honey-gold eyes were now the color of dark husks of wheat. His lips were thin, and stress lines appeared at the corner of his mouth. In the last few hours, Kohana had aged twenty years.
I’m to blame for the way he looks. Kohana’s in pain because of me. Hurting somebody he cared about was more agonizing to Ammon than any flesh wound. Frustrated, he stared down at his clenched fists.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not sure what else to say.
“Why? You didn’t kill Matwau. I did.”
“But I’m to blame for all of this. If I hadn’t been on the island, Matwau wouldn’t have tried to kill me.”
His lover sighed and headed over to him. The man sank to the earth at his side. Despite how badly it caused his injuries to ache, Ammon managed to sit up.
“You may not know this, but bear shifters are creatures of honor,” Kohana finally said.
Ammon stared at his lover, unsure how Kohana had gone from Matwau’s death to this topic. “Okay.”
“We fight and shed blood far too easily.” Kohana waved at the rust stains on the ground. “But we never attack when a back is turned, and we never cheat to win our battles. Those are the rules on this island. All shifters abide by them.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that Matwau broke the rules by attacking when I wasn’t prepared to defend you,” Kohana said. “Matwau lost favor with the gods, so when push came to shove, he died.”
“Do you really believe that?”
Kohana held Ammon’s gaze. “If I didn’t, then the only one I could blame would be myself. And I must admit that I’m far too selfish for that.”
“You could blame me.”
Kohana placed his hand on his knee. “That, I would never do.”
“But maybe you should. My presence here started this mess. Your leader is dead because of me.”
“I was the one who made the choice between ripping out his neck and going for his leg. I chose his neck. That means the one most to blame is me.”
Ammon had assumed that the other man had instinctually gone in for the kill. He hadn’t known that Kohana had made the decision consciously. “Why did you go for his neck?”
“Because I knew that you’d never be safe as long as Matwau lived. He would have kept coming back again and again until he succeeded in getting rid of you. It was him or you. I chose you.”
The words only made Ammon’s guilt worse. He’d made his lover choose between a man he cared about and him. Oh God.
Kohana wrapped his arm around Ammon’s shoulders and held him steady. He must have sensed his troubled thoughts.
The man’s embrace gave Ammon the strength to say what he needed to say. “Thanks for choosing to save me,” he said finally. “I wasn’t ready to die.”
“And I wasn’t ready to let you.”
Ammon searched the other man’s face. Some of the glorious golden light had returned to Kohana’s eyes, and he leaned down to kiss Ammon. The kiss caused none of the toe-curling lust that made Ammon’s balls throb, but it tasted sweeter than any kiss he’d had before.
Ammon was the first to pull away. “What happens now? After all, Matwau is dead.”
“Like I said, bears are used to death. Once the others hear from Tapco that Matwau is dead, they’ll likely pick another pack leader from the strongest.”
“Will they want to kill you for what you did?”
“No. The pack leader is meant to be the strongest of us. If the day comes when he’s no longer the strongest, and he is killed, then the others believe that he no longer possesses the necessary skills to be the leader. They won’t harbor any ill will toward me for challenging Matwau. That’s why having a position of power on Walking Bear Island is a dangerous thing. I would never want to be a leader here, even though I’m one of the largest shifters on the island.”
Ammon’s shoulders slumped in relief. Well, at least Kohana wasn’t in danger. “I’m glad they won’t try to seek revenge, but are the others going to come after me again?”
“They may or may not.” Kohana stared into the sky. “But I have a feeling that we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“Why?” What, were Kohana’s magical gods sending him messages from the great beyond?
Kohana pointed at the horizon. “See for yourself.”
Ammon looked in the direction Kohana was pointing and saw a helicopter in the sky. Though he leapt to his feet in excitement, he toppled to his knees when, within moments, pain shot through his ankles.
Kohana jumped to his feet and steadied Ammon. “Careful.”
“Help is here.” Oh God, he was so relieved he could sing. He was going to live, after all.
“Help is here,” Kohana agreed. “So I’d best carry you to shore so the outsiders can find you.”
He stood and offered Ammon his hand. Ammon stared into his lover’s eyes and felt the balloon of happiness that had been expanding inside him pop. Help was here, and it was time to go home.
Without Kohana.
* * * *
The trek down the hill was a stressful one. Ammon clung onto Kohana’s back, feeling his legs burn with every stride that the other man made. Of course, no ache in his limbs could ever compete with the ache in his heart. Leaving Kohana didn’t feel right, but staying didn’t feel right either. He didn’t belong in a world of bear shifters. And besides, the others might decide to attack him again.
Yet Kohana could come back to America, if only he decided to say yes. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Ammon knew the man would be able to survive in the modern world, but he had no idea how to convince his lover of that. Still he had to try to talk Kohana into going with him again. If he didn’t, he would feel like he hadn’t done enough, and he would regret it forever.
“Come home with me.” Ammon tightened his arms around his lover’s neck. “If I’m your mate, like you said I am, then we belong together.”
Kohana groaned, but he didn’t respond.
“Aren’t you going to talk?” Ammon had never felt more desperate in his entire life.
“We’ve already discussed this.” Kohana spoke gently, but Ammon could hear that his voice was laced with pain. “I care about you, but I can’t go. I belong on this island.”
“No, you belong with me.”
The other man slowed his pace, but he continued to walk all the same.
“Why would your gods want me to be your mate if we’re going to part ways, huh?” Ammon said. “You’re supposed to follow me.”
“I was supposed to protect you so you’d survive, which I did. The gods can’t be angry with me. I did my duty.”
Frustrated, Ammon burrowed his nails into his lover’s skin. “Are you sure you’re just supposed to protect me? I think the universe practically prepared you to leave with me. You speak fluent English, thanks to Harry. You’ve never fit in with the pack. Maybe things happened the way they did because you weren’t meant to remain here. You were supposed to come with me to America.”
“Ammon, stop it.”
“I can’t stop it, damn it.” His brows furrowed. “I should be happy that I’m leaving this island, but all I feel is misery, because I’m leaving you behind. I don’t want to let you go. Can’t you see that?”
Kohana made an odd choking sound. “I’m sorry, Ammon. I truly am. I wish I could do what you want and go back with you, but I can’t.”
Ammon’s throat suddenly felt tight, and he swallowed hard. “What are you so scared of, huh? What is it about my world that frightens you so much?”
“I know who I am here. I have my place and know where I stand. What place would I have somewhere else?”
“You’d have a place beside me.”
Ammon felt Kohana tremble beneath him, but the other man shook his head. Ammon knew at that moment that there was nothing he could say to Kohana to convince the man to come with him. Just like his time on this island was over, his relationship with Kohana was over too. And nothing could have hurt him more.
* * * *
Once they arrived at the beach, Ammon heard the sound of footsteps as the rescue team explored the shore next to the helicopter. He could make out the garbled sounds of talking, but he couldn’t hear well enough to know whether they were speaking English or some other language. As he listened, Kohana eased him down the ground.
“This is where I leave you,” Kohana said.
“What? You aren’t at least coming out with me?”
“No, I can’t.” Kohana shook his head. “If the other outsiders know I’m here, they’ll try to take me with them.”
The words brought Ammon even more pain. He had to try to convince Kohana to go with him again. “It’s not too late. Come with me. Come to—”
Kohana gave him a scorching kiss, stopping him mid-sentence. Shocked, Ammon’s arms fell slack at his sides. After the surprise faded, he realized that this kiss wasn’t just any kiss—it was a goodbye kiss. Kohana was telling him without words that the two of them were parting ways. There was no use in arguing. This final embrace was all they had.
Moaning, Ammon wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck, pulling him closer. Their tongues mingled. As they embraced, Ammon tried to memorize the way Kohana tasted. That way, he wouldn’t forget him, even after he left the island. Seconds became minutes, and neither man wanted to let go.
Unfortunately, somebody had to. And the person who stepped back first was Kohana.
“Goodbye, Ammon.” Kohana cupped his cheek. “I’m so glad I met you.”
“Don’t leave,” Ammon pleaded.
Shaking his head, Kohana whirled around and darted into the forest. Ammon’s legs crumbled beneath him, but when he fell to his knees with a yelp, he wasn’t sure what hurt worse—his ankles or his heart.
Luckily, his yelp caught the attention of the rescuers moving on the beach.
“I think I heard somebody back there,” a deep-voiced man said.
“Where?” a woman responded.
Goodbye, Kohana, Ammon thought, staring into the trees.
Finally, he sucked in air and said, “I’m back here. Somebody help me. I’m injured.”
He heard the cracking of foliage, and a moment later, a muscular, clean-shaven man marched through the bushes. A thick woman with long dark hair shadowed him.
When Ammon and the muscular rescuer made eye contact, the guy’s eyes widened. “Good God, what happened to you?”
Everything, he thought. Everything.
“We’re going to need emergency medical assistance,” the woman said, speaking into a radio that was pinned to her jacket. “We have a survivor.”
“Maria, get a stretcher.” The man exchanged glances with the woman, then spoke to Ammon, “Let’s get you home.”
But even after he was put on a stretcher and carried to the helicopter, Ammon kept casting glances over his shoulder, hoping that Kohana would reappear.