Page 68 of Forget Me Not
Modesty be damned, she shifted—just a dirty, bloody mess on her knees.
“Bas—” she rasped, still sucking in air from the run. “Shot.” Her voice cracked, but it did not matter.
Message received.
“Soriah!” Cyrus boomed, ripping his shirt over his head. “Talk later, take me to him.”
Syve nodded, shifting back as Soriah appeared in the doorway, a hand over her mouth.
Cy looked at her, vowing, “I’ll bring him home, Mama. Be ready.”
Then he stepped around Syve, threw his shirt into the yard and shifted as he leapt from the deck. The bear landed with athump, bent his head to grab the shirt up in its jaws and started running.
When she was told Cyrus could shift into a bear, she imagined a cute little black bear—not a whole ass grizzly, like the one she was currently leading through the trees. Not that she could complain, his size was about to come in handy.
The return trip seemed to take twice as long, the fear of what they would find when they got there was eating her alive. She hadn’t checked the hunter before leaving.
What if he was not dead? What if he woke up and finished the job? What if he took Bas and they never saw him again? What if, what if, what if and it was all her fault for not looking?
One ‘what if’ she dutifully ignored.
What if Bastien was dead?
As the grove of baby pines came into view, Cyrus let out a low growl and Syve let him pull ahead. He could probably smell the blood. It was far easier to pass through the trees when she was following in the wake of a massive bear, not to mention the security it provided when they reached the other side—if she needed it.
Cyrus broke out onto the road, head snapping from side to side before standing on his hind legs, dropping the shirt and letting loose a roar that rattled Syve to her bones. When she trotted around him, she sagged in relief, Bastien was still there, chest visibly rising and falling—albeit barely.
Cyrus’ anger was aimed at the hunter, who was nowhere to be found.
With all due haste, Syve shifted, snatching Cyrus’ shirt off the ground and running to Bastien’s side. Cy came up on the other side, delicately rolling the wolf with his giant paw, exposing the wound.
Syve swore aloud, pressing the fabric into the scarlet fur as she pleaded with whatever deity might be listening.Please,she begged silently,just let him be okay.
Carefully, Syve helped Cyrus shoulder Bastien onto his back, hesitating for a second when the big beast inclined his head insinuating he wanted her to climb on as well. Between the snapping maw that came far too close to her leg and the understanding that Bastien’s wolf form would simply slide off with nothing holding him, she relented.
Scrambling onto the great bear’s back, she clung to golden and silver fur alike.
“Go!”
And they did.
Syve
Soriahstoodwringingherhands in the doorway as they came through the trees. Instead of rushing to her son, she surprised Syve by turning instead and disappearing into the house, hollering for Delanira as she went.
Cyrus carried them all the way to the door before shifting—likely because he wouldn’t fit through the door otherwise. Grizzly one moment, man the next and somehow managing to spin and catch Bastien before he could hit the hardwood. Syve was not afforded such luxury, and landed in a heap. Cy slipped into the house leaving her to scramble after him.
Fabric covered her face the second her feet hit the tiled floor. Del grimaced apologetically, arm still outstretched from her toss but said nothing before turning into the kitchen.
Syve followed the young girl, stopping in the doorway to slip the T-shirt on. As worried as she was for Bastien, she knew she would only be in the way right now, and there was no point in standing around cold and naked.
Papers, spices and other miscellaneous objects lay on the floor, evidence that the table was swept clean in a rush.
Cyrus, who had thankfully donned pants of his own, was leaning over the table and the eerily-still wolf that lay on top of it.
On the other end of the table Soriah was working quickly, shooting off orders to Del who was at her side with an arm full of various first aid equipment. Tirelessly, the women worked as Syve slid to the floor, leaning against the door frame, unblinking as she observed.
Sometime later, exactly how long she had no idea, Soriah sank into a chair, head tipped back as she heaved a deep breath. “Osito, can you get him to bed without jostling him too much?”
