Page 40 of Can't Get No Satyrfaction

“See those marks?” He gestured to a scarred trunk and traced the grooves. “A buck’s been here recently. A young one, probably his first season.”

She leaned close, her camera clicking softly. The scent of her made his pulse skip, wanting her again already. He cleared his throat and moved on, indicating a fallen log ahead. “Look there.”

A cluster of luminescent mushrooms sprouted along the bark, their caps gleaming like tiny pearls. She dropped to her knees, camera already raised. Her face glowed with wonder as she captured the image, and he smiled at her pleasure.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed.

He pointed out more of the tiny signs that most humans rushed past without seeing but wasn’t surprised when brought things to his attention as well. A half-buried geode, the interior crystals catching the sunlight. A squirrel perched in the crook of a tree, watching them anxiously as it clutched an acorn almost as large as its body.

When an iridescent beetle skittered across their path, its shell flashing blue-green in the dappled light, she gasped. She knelt again, her camera clicking rapidly as she captured its journey across a moss-covered stone.

The pure joy on her face thrilled him. He’d forgotten what it was like to see the forest through new eyes—to share its secrets with someone who truly appreciated them. As he watched her photograph the beetle, her face soft and happy, he realized with startling clarity how much better his life was with her at his side.

They eventually made their way back to their cabin and an ecstatic Bront, who acted as if they’d been gone for weeks. While she cooed over the dog, he built a fire in the clearing in front of the cabin, watching sparks dance into the darkening sky. The day’s warmth lingered in the earth beneath him, but he barely noticed—not with her presence filling his senses as she came to join him.

The flames painted her skin gold, catching in her hair like captured sunlight, and he stroked it gently, delighting in his ability to touch her so freely. She leaned into him, her small body fitting even more perfectly than usual against his side, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. Her contented sigh sent warmth spreading through his chest, different from the heat of the fire.

The stars emerged one by one, pinpricks of light in the velvet dark. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d simply sat and watched them. Usually, the night meant patrol, checking the boundaries, keeping his forest safe. But with her tucked against him, the weight of his duties felt lighter somehow.

She tilted her head up, and his breath caught at the look in her eyes. Starlight silvered her features, making her seem almost fae-like. Beautiful. Dangerous.

Her lips parted in silent invitation, and he was lost. He dipped his head, capturing her mouth with his. She tasted like wild berries and possibility, and he kissed her slow and deep, savoring every soft sound she made, every brush of her fingers against his skin.

The stars wheeled overhead, forgotten, as he lost himself in her warmth.

He openedhis eyes the next morning to the gray light before dawn. His bed had never felt this warm, this full of life. She was curled against him, her breath steady and deep against his chest. Her hair spilled across his arm like silk, and her fingers were curled loosely around his bicep.

The familiar weight of his solitude had lifted. He’d never known what it felt like to wake up next to someone, to feel their warmth seep into his bones. To want them to stay.

His thumb traced idle patterns on her shoulder, memorizing the softness of her skin. She made a small sound in her sleep and burrowed closer, as if seeking his heat. For so long, he’d wrapped himself in duty and isolation, using them as armor against the pain of his sister’s loss. But with Sylvie’s weight anchored against him, those walls had drifted away

He pressed his lips to her temple, breathing in her sweet scent, filled with an unfamiliar lightness. Could he really have this? After years of pushing everyone away, of believing happiness was a luxury he couldn’t afford, the promise of something more stretched before him like sunrise through leaves.

The ache that had lived in his chest for so long felt different now. Softer. He pulled her closer, careful not to wake her, and let himself imagine waking up this way every day.

When he finally rose, the cabin felt different—warmer, filled with possibility instead of echoing emptiness. He moved toward the kitchen, his mind already mapping out the day ahead. Maybe he’d show her another hidden waterfall, watch her face light up when she saw the rainbow mist…

The silence hit him first. No click of claws on wood. No heavy breathing from the porch. No eager whine for breakfast. Bront wasn’t in the cabin.

His heart kicked against his ribs as he yanked open the door, looking out into the silent woods. The porch stretched empty before him, dew glinting on the railings.

“Bront!”

The name echoed through the trees, fading into nothing, and blankets rustled behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Sylvie’s voice was thick with sleep.

His jaw clenched. Bront never wandered. Not without reason. The hound was as much a part of his daily routine as breathing—always there, always watching, always protecting. His absence felt wrong, like a shadow where light should be.

He scanned the tree line, nostrils flaring. The forest held its usual morning scents—pine sap, damp earth, the lingering smoke from last night’s fire. But underneath… His spine stiffened. Something else. Something that didn’t belong. How the fuck had anything made it past his wards?

“He’s gone.”

Worry churned in his gut—not just for Bront now, but for his precious little mate. If there was trouble in his woods…

A warm hand touched his arm. He hadn’t heard her approach. “We’ll find him.”

The simple certainty in her voice made his chest ache. He wanted to tell her to stay put, to keep her safe in the cabin. But the determination in her eyes told him that would be pointless.

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