Page 17 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

“A bond,” she repeated softly. She traced her finger along the bark of the log beneath her, imagining roots stretching deep into the earth, connecting everything around her. “So you belong to it. And it belongs to you.”

“Yes.” His tail flicked, his eyes searching her face.

“I like that.” She smiled up at him. “It’s beautiful, in its own way.”

Something softened in his expression, a flicker of vulnerability beneath the stern facade. “I thought you’d find it strange. Most humans would.”

“Most humans don’t take the time to look, do they?” She tilted her head. “They see what they want to see and move on. Never stopping to wonder what’s underneath the surface.”

“And you?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Do you wonder?”

The air felt charged between them, heavy with things left unsaid. But she didn’t want to leave them that way. Didn’t want him to think of her as just another shallow, selfish human.

“I do,” she said softly, holding his gaze. “I’m not always successful, but I try to understand the things—and people—I photograph.”

His eyes held hers for a long moment before he turned back to the fire. He had stiffened again and she sighed.

Bront sat down next to her and nudged her hand. She buried her fingers in the dark ruff around his neck, scratching the sweet spot behind his ears that made his tail thump against the ground.

“At least someone here likes me,” she whispered to him, and his middle head tilted, those intelligent blue eyes fixed on her face. His left head nuzzled her cheek while the other watched Thorn with what looked suspiciously like amusement. “You’re just a big sweetie, aren’t you? Nothing like your grumpy master over there.”

Bront huffed, a sound that could have been an agreement, and flopped his big heads on her lap. The pressure should have been uncomfortable, but his solid presence felt oddly reassuring.

She glanced up, catching Thorn’s gaze on her before he quickly looked away, jaw tight as he poked at the fire with unnecessary force.

“Traitor,” he muttered to Bront, who responded by snuggling closer to her.

She did her best to hide her smile. For all his brooding, Thorn kept stealing glances when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Eachtime their eyes met, even briefly, electricity crackled through her veins. He might try to act indifferent, but his body language told a different story—the tension in his shoulders, the way his tail flicked restlessly, how his hands clenched and unclenched as if fighting the urge to reach out.

She scratched under Bront’s chins, earning a pleased rumble that vibrated against her legs.

“Good boy,” she cooed, not missing how Thorn’s ear twitched at the sound of her voice.

His sharp features caught the shadows, making him look otherworldly—dangerous, even—but it only added to his allure. Especially with the gentle way he’d tended her ankle, how his touch lingered just a heartbeat too long.

“Are you always this chatty, or am I just special?” she asked playfully, and his head snapped up, those mesmerizing green eyes locking onto hers.

Her breath caught. His jaw tightened, but there—just at the corner of his mouth—she caught the barest hint of a smile. That tiny crack in his stern facade felt like winning a prize. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face, couldn’t resist pushing just a little further.

“Come on, admit it, you like having me around, Captain Smiley.”

She leaned towards him, letting her voice drop to a teasing whisper. He didn’t grunt or look away this time. Instead, those intense green eyes held hers, filled with an unspoken heat that made her skin tingle. Maybe it was reckless to flirt with him like this, but something about the way he looked at her—like she was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve—made her want to push those carefully constructed boundaries.

After a long moment his lips curved and her heart began to race. It wasn’t a full grin—more like sunlight breaking through storm clouds—but it struck her breathless all the same. This wasn’t just curiosity anymore, not just a game—perhaps it never had been. The pull she felt towards him ran far deeper. The air between them shifted, charged with something new and electric. Suddenly overwhelmed, she took refuge in humor.

“There it is! A real smile, I knew you had one in you!”

He shook his head, still looking amused, then began removing the meat from the fire, wrapping it in large leaves. They ate in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. The fire burned low, casting long shadows across the clearing. As she finished her meal, she looked up to find him watching her again. Without thinking, she smiled at him.

And then, like a gift, he smiled back—soft and genuine.

It was barely there, just a gentle upturn of his lips, but it transformed his face, softening the sharp angles and bringing a light to his eyes that made her breath catch. In that moment, he looked carefree, happy, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

She wanted to capture that look forever. To make sure he never forgot how to smile like that.

But before she could reach for her camera, it was gone. The guarded expression returned, a shield slamming back into place, and her heart ached. What pain had he endured to make him so wary? So determined to hide away his gentler side? She longed to know, to understand what had happened to make him build such strong walls around himself. But she sensed that pushinghim right now would only cause him to retreat further behind those walls.

However, just because she couldn’t reach him verbally…

---