Page 72 of Forget Me Not
“This,” she whispered, pointing to the pelt on the couch back, “is yours?”
“It’s in my house, isn’t it? Who the hell else would it belong to? Though my offer still stands—the other half of my bed is still yours when you’re ready to take it.” He stepped behind her, tapping a finger against the picture. “Shot this mutt myself three years ago—biggest damn wolf I’ve ever seen. Well, aside from the ghost that was with him, I’m still mad as hell I didn’t see that one first.”
Mind spinning and gut roiling, she stared at him. Unable to believe the words coming from his mouth.
Gunther, seeming to recall the jacket he held pressed to his chest, shook the article out, holding it up to inspect.
“Not bad, I guess. It’ll do until I can find a replacement,” he hummed, discarding the coat to the floor behind him. “You know, I can’t get the wet dog smell off that damned thing. If you like it, I’ll let you take it.”
Syve glanced at the couch, then turned to find he had moved closer.
With a devilish grin, he snapped a hand out, catching her by the back of the neck. “On one condition.” His mouth slammed down to hers.
She reeled back, fighting his hold, and slapped him across the face. “Don’teverdo that again.“ She snarled between clenched teeth.
With a mocking laugh, Gunther growled, “We’ll see, Doll.”
She made a show of wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, then collected the pelt and bolted from the house.
Bastien
ConsciousnessreturnedtoBastienthe same way sunlight returned with the dawn. Slowly he became aware of a dull ache in his side, triggering memories that steamrolled through his mind—a film he couldn’t pause and leave unfinished.
A gentle weight bore down on him; one he could not place. Puzzled, he opened his eyes, blinking until her face came into focus.
Syve.
She was asleep, the weight he felt was nothing more than her leg stretching over him, her fingers twitching against his chest while she dozed. The door opened, only the sound ofthe wood dragging across the carpet giving the action away at all.
Tears welled in her eyes when his mother noticed he was watching her, awake at last. Bastien quickly placed a finger to his lips, glancing down toward the woman nestled against him. Soriah smiled softly and whispered something about food before ducking back out into the hall.
Bastien replaced his attention to Syve. The skin around her eyes was dark, her brows creased, even though she was snoring softly. She looked as though sleep took her, not by choice, but necessity.
Unable to refrain, he reached out to smooth the tangled mess of auburn hair haloed about her. Hazel eyes blinked open before he even reached her neck.
Just as he had sworn, Cyrus had not left Bas’ side for even a second after Syve left. Not even after helping Bastien out of the bed and to the bathroom to relieve himself.
“Cy, goddammit, I can piss on my own!”
“I am nothing, if not a man of my word, Pup. By your side means by your side,” Cyrus said to the door. He shrugged, throwing his hands in the air. “Keep bitching and I’ll turn back around. At least I’m not offering to hold it for you.”
Soriah had brought up enough food to feed five grown men, which turned out to be a good call. Being shot and thensleeping for four days did a number on his appetite—that and Cyrus kept stealing bites.
Mid chew, Bastien froze, his eyes tripling in size before he groaned. “Fuck! Hal probably thinks I died! Where’s my phone? I need to call and grovel—”
Cyrus cut him off, “Whoa, whoa! Hal is fine, and no one thinks you’re dead. Syve called him Monday morning. You do have some God-awful case of pneumonia though.” He pointed at Bas with a spoon,hisspoon.
“Gimme that, you hog!” Bas snatched the spoon back but was too slow to stop Cyrus from picking up the bowl instead, drinking the soup from it like a cup.
“Hope I’m not interrupting anything?” Both men turned to see Aimi standing in the doorway, looking every bit like an angel with the drink carrier in her hands.
“You’re always welcome to join, Daisy,” Cy crooned.
“If one of those is for me, I swear I’ll love you forever,” Bas practically begged, mouth watering.
“Butcher Boy, you’d better already love me forever. Syve and I are a package deal—not that kind of package you idiot,” she scolded a giggling Cy, kicking him in the shin as she walked past to hand Bas one of the cups.
Surprisingly, she didn’t bat an eye when Cy reached out and pulled a drink from the carrier for himself.
