Page 3 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

“Why do you need help? You shouldn’t even be here.”

Her small shoulders straightened as she gave him what she undoubtedly thought was a fierce expression. Instead she looked rather like an enraged kitten.

“I have every right to be here.Wild Havenmagazine arranged for me to be allowed into the forest for the next week to take photographs.”

“I would have been notified if someone had been allowed permission to enter—” He broke off as he suddenly remembered the message he’d received. “You’re S. Hartman?”

“Yes. Don’t tell me. Let me guess—you assumed I was a man?”

“They usually are.”

His scowl deepened. He hadn’t liked the idea at the time and he liked it even less now. He disliked having humans in his domain, and he disliked the idea that the visitor would be taking photographs even more. The fact that S. Hartman was a small, sweet-smelling female did nothing to change his opinion.

“If you don’t believe me, see for yourself,” she said, reaching for the backpack sitting next to her, then winced.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He abandoned his questions about her presence in the Elderwood, dropping down on his haunches next to her.

“It’s my feet. They got caught in these vines, and they tighten when I move too much.”

She gestured at her legs, and he swore under his breath, anger surging through him at the sight of those delicate ankles ensnared in the vicious vines. He hadn’t smelled blood when he came to join her, and fortunately the vines didn’t appear to havebroken the skin yet. But when he ran his hands over her ankles, he could tell they were beginning to swell slightly despite the somewhat dubious protection of her ridiculous footwear.

“I’m going to free you. Don’t move.” Her eyes widened as she stared up at him, and he sighed. “Just stay still, little female. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I trust you,” she said softly, and he shot her a startled glance, unexpectedly gratified by her statement.

“You do? Why?”

“I’m a good judge of character. And besides, Fluffy trusts you.”

Her trust in him was because of his dog? He gave an annoyed grunt as he ran his fingers along the vines and commanded them to release. They obeyed, slithering back into the earth, and she gave him another wide-eyed look.

“How did you do that?”

“I am a satyr and the Guardian of the Elderwood. The plants obey me.”

“That must be helpful. Thank you,” she added as she stretched out her legs and wiggled her feet. “That’s so much better. I was beginning to think I was going to be stuck here all night.”

“You wouldn’t have been stuck here if you hadn’t been foolish enough to let the vines trap you to begin with. What on Earth were you thinking?” How had humans survived long enough to become the most dominant species on the planet?

“I didn’t know they were there. I just sat down to take a break and have a snack.”

“The scent of food often attracts the wrong type of visitor,” he said sternly.

“I thought that only applied to things like bears, not vines.”

“Not in the Elderwood. This is not a tame forest.”

“I can see that.” She gave him a teasing smile and gods help him, he almost smiled back. Then she bent over and loosened the top of her boots. “They look a little swollen.”

“Let me see,” he said gruffly. He pushed down her socks and carefully put his hands around her ankles.

Even slightly swollen, they were impossibly small, her skin like the finest silk beneath his hands as he probed gently at the joints.

“Just a little bruised,” he told her. “You were lucky.”

Eventually the vines would have contracted to the point of breaking her ankles, then slowly crept up over the rest of her body, gradually paralyzing her.

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