Page 10 of Can’t Get No Satyrfaction (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)
CHAPTER 10
S ylvie stared at the entrance to the shelter as Thorn departed, then sighed.
How had they ended up sleeping together? She’d been disappointed but not surprised when he’d sent her off to bed alone. Even though she was convinced he was as attracted to her as she was to him, he was fighting it tooth and nail. She’d expected to have a hard time falling asleep but she could see him through the opening of the shelter, horns silhouetted against the fire and the knowledge that he was watching over her had sent her straight to sleep.
Waking up in his arms should have shocked her. Instead it had felt perfect, like she belonged right there, pressed against his big strong body. Her heart had skipped as his fingers traced her cheek with impossible gentleness, the touch sparking tingles across her skin.
When he leaned down to kiss her, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, she didn’t hesitate to meet him halfway. The moment his lips had met hers, her world tilted. He’d kissed her with such intensity, such longing, that her toes had curled with pleasure. Fire streaked through her veins and she wanted more, wanted everything he had to give her.
The previous night’s kiss had been overwhelming enough but this was even better. Her breasts still ached, longing for his touch, and she had every intention of teasing and tempting him until he gave in again.
But now he reappeared in the entrance, his tail lashing, his jaw clenched, and she knew that something was bothering him other than their encounter. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable.
“Poachers in the woods,” he said finally. “It’s not safe to travel far today.”
“Just as well. I’m not sure my ankles are up for a long walk. Unless you were going to carry me again?”
She gave him her most innocent smile and his horns twitched. Actually her ankles felt a hundred times better but she didn’t want to miss the opportunity to tease him. Or the chance to be in his arms.
“I’m taking you to my cabin. It’s secure. Protected. You’ll be safe there until the threat passes.”
His voice was gruff, as if the words were forced out of him, and she sighed. As much as she wanted to see where he lived, she didn’t want him to feel forced into it.
“I could just wait here,” she suggested. “It doesn’t seem like an easy place to find.”
“I will not leave you alone and unprotected.”
She bit her lip at that and he tracked the gesture, his gaze focusing on her mouth. His words sent a flush of warmth through her. He cared, whether he’d admit it or not. The thought made her heart beat faster, but she didn’t want to cause him any more worry than she already had.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate that. And it means I have more time to get those perfect shots,” she added, trying to soften that grim face. “Maybe I’ll finally catch your good side.”
His eyes narrowed, but she caught that telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth—the one that meant he was fighting back a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“Part of my charm. You know you love it.”
The words fell into a suddenly charged silence, and his jaw tightened, those dark brows drawing together in a way that made her heart skip another beat. The morning sunlight caught the silver streaks in his hair, making them shimmer like threads of starlight.
“You’ll stay close.” His deep voice sounded as rough as tree bark. “No wandering off.”
The command should have bristled her independent nature, but the worry threading through his words melted something inside her. Her lips curved into a teasing smile.
“What if I have to pee? Will you stand guard for that too?”
His glare sharpened, those green eyes flashing—but his lips quirked again. The almost-smile sent heat coursing through her veins. Her breath caught as his gaze lingered on her face, that spark of reluctant amusement making her skin tingle. His tail flicked, betraying his agitation, and the intensity of his stare held her captive, those forest-green eyes darkening with an emotion that definitely wasn’t annoyance.
After another charged silence, he stepped away from the entrance.
“Can you walk that far with your crutches?” he asked gruffly.
“I think I can manage.”
She had to fight back a giggle, and he gave her a suspicious look as he handed over the crutches. She hobbled behind a cluster of ferns to take care of her morning needs, rolling her eyes as he hovered just out of sight. When she reached the stream, the icy water shocked her fully awake as she splashed her face and rinsed her hands.
Back at camp, she hopped around the perimeter with her camera, Bront padding beside her like an oversized shadow. The morning light painted everything in gold, transforming ordinary leaves into glittering jewels. Through her lens, she captured drops of dew suspended on spider webs, each one a perfect prism.
“Look at that light, Fluffy.” She scratched behind Bront’s ears, earning a pleased rumble. “Pure magic.”
The click of her shutter filled the air as she documented everything that caught her eye. A shaft of sunlight breaking through the canopy. The delicate bloom of a tiny pink flower. The way moss crept up ancient tree trunks in velvet patterns.
He moved silently around the camp, preparing breakfast, but she caught him watching her more than once. Each time their eyes met, he’d quickly look away.
The third time it happened, she couldn’t resist anymore.
“You know,” she called out, lowering her camera, “I think you might actually enjoy my company if you’d let yourself.”
The knife in his hand stilled mid-slice, and his shoulders tensed.
“I mean, Fluffy clearly loves me.” She ruffled the dog’s fur and grinned at him. “You’ve got competition.”
His laugh caught her completely off guard—deep and rich, rolling through the clearing like distant thunder. The sound hit her right in the stomach, leaving her breathless and wanting to hear it again.
The sound of his laughter faded into the morning air, but its effect lingered, warming her from the inside out. She lowered herself to the ground near where he worked, crossing her legs beneath her. He worked with practiced efficiency as he prepared their breakfast, but she caught the slight hesitation in his movements when she shifted closer.
“I’m not scared, you know,” she said softly, the words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. “Not when you’re here.”
Her cheeks heated at the admission, but she forced herself to look up. He had gone still, his knife suspended above the herbs he’d been chopping. His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that stole her breath. She expected him to look away—he always did—but this time he held her gaze, something unreadable flickering across his face. The moment stretched, delicate as a spider’s web, and she found herself leaning forward unconsciously, drawn by the heat in his eyes.
“Stay,” he said, his voice rough as gravel, and she blinked, unsure if he was replying to her confession or simply giving her a command. But then he stood and walked away, leaving her staring after him.
He returned moments later, some of the moss from the shelter in his hand. He placed it on a bare patch of ground, then stroked it softly with his fingers. The moss began to grow and spread rippling across the ground beneath her until it formed a thick carpet.
“So you’ll be more comfortable.” His gaze met hers briefly, his expression unreadable.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, sinking into the velvety softness of the moss.
She watched him prepare the rest of their breakfast, but he didn’t look at her again, his focus entirely on his work. But she didn’t miss how his fingers trembled, just a little, as he sliced fruit, or the way his tail lashed behind him as he worked.
When he’d finished, he brought her a plate of food. He knelt to set it down, his face close enough that she could count the silver threads in his beard. His eyes flickered to her mouth, and for a dizzying moment, she thought he might kiss her again.
But then he pulled back, rising to his feet with a swift, fluid movement. He busied himself with cleaning the knife and putting it back in his belt sheath and avoiding her gaze. Her stomach twisted with disappointment, remembering the feel of his lips on hers, his hands in her hair.
He’d given in to temptation twice, but he seemed determined not to repeat it. She was going to have to ensure it happened again, and next time, she’d make sure he didn’t have a chance to pull away