Page 18 of Can’t Get No Satyrfaction (Mated to the Monster: Season 3)

CHAPTER 18

T horn’s hands threatened to tremble as he started to work the snare loose, his heart still hammering from the moment he’d returned to find his cabin empty. His rage at the poachers mixed with the overwhelming fear that had seized him when he’d discovered Sylvie was gone.

He’d torn through the forest like a storm, tracking her scent mixed with Bront’s. Each step had brought fresh waves of panic until he’d caught sight of her auburn hair through the trees just as Bront intercepted him. He’d been so overwhelmed with relief that it had only added to his anger.

Now, as he worked to free the injured kitsune, he struggled to focus past the lingering echo of that fear. She knelt beside him, her shoulder brushing his arm, alive and whole and completely oblivious to how badly she’d shaken him.

“Can I help?”

Her hands trembled as she reached out, but he caught them without thinking, engulfing them in his much larger ones.

“Let me,” he said gruffly. The wire had sharp edges that could slice through her delicate skin and there were already traces of blood in her fingertips.

The sight made his chest tighten. As annoying as they were, humans were also so fucking fragile. So easily broken.

She nodded and sat back on her heels, but she stayed close, radiating a warmth that seemed to seep into his bones. A tear slipped down her cheek as she watched the trapped creature, and something inside him ached. He wanted to brush that tear away, to pull her into his arms and shield her from everything that could hurt her.

The impulse terrified him.

She didn’t belong here in his forest, kneeling in the dirt and crying over wounded animals. She belonged in the human world with its neat gardens and safe paths. Not here where every shadow could hide danger, where one wrong step could lead to disaster.

Yet watching her now, her face soft with concern… she fit. Like she’d always been meant to be here, breaking down every wall he’d built to keep himself safe.

As he continued to work the wire loose as his mind drifted to that morning’s conversation. After he’d fled the cabin, he’d gone to seek out Marsh, driven by a restlessness he couldn’t shake.

His nephew had been outside his swamp cottage, tending to his herb garden, his broad shoulders relaxed and the vines intermingled with his hair moving peacefully in the sunshine. The sight had twisted something in his chest—Marsh had once been so alone, but now he had a mate and he moved easily between their world and the human one, as if the boundaries meant nothing.

“How can you trust them?” he demanded. “After what they did to your mother?”

Marsh didn’t even look up from his plants. “Not all humans are the same, Thorn.”

“They’re dangerous?—”

“Aurora isn’t.” Marsh said, his voice quiet but firm. “Nor Jimmy. Neither are her friends in town. Mother wouldn’t want us to live in fear forever.”

He winced. “Your mother?—”

“Would want us to be happy.” Marsh finally turned, fixing Thorn with that knowing look that always made him feel ancient and foolish. “She wouldn’t want her pain to keep us from living.”

Now, watching Sylvie’s gentle hands hover near the injured creature, those words echoed in his mind. She was nothing like the monsters who’d hurt his sister. Her heart was as open as the sky, her touch as soft as morning dew.

The trapped animal whimpered, drawing him back to the present. The wire finally gave way, and the kitsune trembled as he lifted it free of the snare. Sylvie sighed with relief, her smile radiant.

He cradled the injured animal, carefully checking its leg. No broken bones, just raw skin where the wire had cut into its leg. The creature’s heart hammered against his palm, wild and fierce, but he held it a moment longer, smoothing a few drops of healing oil over the torn skin.

She leaned closer, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and gave him a worried look.

“Will it be okay?” Her voice was soft, meant not to startle.

He nodded, unable to look directly at her as the morning light caught in her hair, turning it to fire. “Just needs time to heal.”

She exhaled, shoulders dropping with relief. When the kitsune squirmed, eager to escape, she shifted back to give it space. He released it and it scampered into the bushes, limping but determined.

She watched it go, then smiled up at him and his heart did something it shouldn’t. He looked away, forcing his expression to remain neutral even as his pulse thudded.

“Thank you,” she said softly. She hesitated, as if wanting to reach for him, but then dropped her hands back into her lap, twisting them together.

“You shouldn’t have wandered off,” he growled, the words rough with the emotion he couldn’t quite suppress.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. He wanted to grab her, to shake her, to pull her close and never let go. Instead, he forced himself to breathe, to remember why getting attached was dangerous. But the panic that had gripped him when he’d found her gone told him it was already too late.

“I had Bront with me,” she said softly, as if that explained everything.

The massive hound wagged his tail at the mention of his name, and Thorn shot him a betrayed look. The beast was supposed to keep her safe in the cabin, not enable her adventures.

“And if I hadn’t come this way, that poor little thing would still be trapped,” she added defiantly.

She wasn’t wrong, which only irritated him even more. He rose grumpily, then found himself reaching down to help her to her feet. She didn’t hesitate to take his hand and he pulled her up. Once again he underestimated her slight weight and she ended up plastered against his chest.

She smiled up at him and slid her arms up around his neck. He automatically put his arms around her, and a little shower of flower petals drifted down over them.

“I’m sorry if you were worried about me.”

“When I returned and you weren’t there, I panicked.”

The confession emerged before he could call it back, and her face softened.

“Where did you go?”

“To visit my nephew. He told me my sister would want me to be happy.”

“I’m sure he’s right.” Her fingers twisted in the shorter curls behind his ears. “Is it so hard to believe?”

“I haven’t been happy for a long time.” Another impromptu confession. What was she doing to him? “I lived my life, I protected the forest, but it was… empty.”

Those bright blue eyes inspected his face, the corners of her mouth curving up.

“You said it was empty.”

“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Then what changed?”

“It started with Marsh, I think. But mostly, because of you.”

He might be confused and angry, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart raced at her nearness, or how his arms tightened instinctively around her, keeping her pressed against him.

Her smile lit up the entire fucking forest and he couldn’t help it. He leaned down and kissed her, swallowing her gasp of surprise. Her body molded to his, soft and yielding, and something cracked open inside him, flooding his veins with warmth.

She tasted like honey and mint, like every sweet, impossible dream he’d denied himself. And when she melted into him, he knew he was lost. There was no going back. Not from this.

He’d always sworn to protect his woods, to keep the darkness at bay, but here in her arms, it seemed the light had found him instead.

When he lifted his head, her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I was so afraid when I saw that poor thing trapped. I didn’t know what to do, and then you appeared like a miracle. My miracle.”

Her voice hitched, and he pulled her close again, resting his chin on the top of her head as she buried her face in his chest. He could feel her trembling, and the urge to keep her safe burned through him.

Bront pressed against their legs, whining softly, and he reached down to stroke the hound’s ears. They made an odd picture—the satyr, the photographer, and the three-headed dog—but somehow, they fit together.

And he didn’t want to lose this. He didn’t want to lose her.

“Will you stay with me?” The question escaped before he could second-guess himself. “Here, in the Elderwood?”

She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her blue eyes searching his. “Are you sure?”

He swallowed hard, but he knew what he wanted and he wasn’t going to fight it any longer. “Yes.” The word emerged as a rough growl, but he didn’t waver. “Stay.”

Her lips curved into a smile brighter than any star. “Yes,” she breathed, leaning up on tiptoe to brush her mouth against his. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

Triumph roared through him as he smiled at her.

“Then come with me.”

He sent Bront back to the cabin before he led her deeper into the woods. His fears hadn’t completely disappeared but they seemed minor compared to the joy that filled him. She’d agreed to stay. With him.

Need hummed through his veins and he had to keep reminding himself to slow down, to fit his pace to her shorter legs. He fought back the impulse to lift into his arms and carry her. As much as he needed her, he was determined not to rush her.

She gasped in delight when they finally arrived at his favorite place in the forest—a secluded clearing at the base of a cliff, a waterfall tumbling down the rock to land in a small, clear pool.

“It’s so beautiful.”

The ground around the pool was covered with short dense moss but as she whispered her praise, flowers began to spring up amidst the moss and her eyes widened.

“Why does that keep happening?”

“I think the Elderwood approves of this—of us.”

Her eyes went even wider, and then she smiled.

“Maybe it’s trying to tell you that it wants you to be happy too.”

Could she be right? He’d assumed that when the forest had chosen him to be his guardian that it would be a solitary life, but perhaps that had been driven by own fears, not reality.

But could she be happy here too?

“What are you thinking?” she asked softly.

“This isn’t the human world.” He gestured at the surrounding woods. “It’s not… easy. The forest can be dangerous.” He swallowed hard. “I can be dangerous.”

She reached up and brushed her fingertips across his cheek. “I told you I’m not afraid. Not of the forest and most definitely not of you.”

“You should be.” He trapped her hand with his, holding it against his skin. “I’m not… not a good person.”

“Thorn…” Her thumb traced the line of his jaw, sending sparks of heat across his skin. “You’re not as frightening as you think you are.”

“I’ve killed before.” The confession slipped out, unbidden. “And I would kill again if someone tried to hurt you.”

“Thorn, look at me.” She waited until he met her eyes before continuing. “I see you. The real you. And yes, you’re grumpy, and growly, and you can definitely be intimidating… but you’re also kind, and protective, and honorable. You saved my life, and the life of that little creature earlier. I know you would protect me, whatever it took.”

His throat tightened, emotions he couldn’t name threatening to choke him. No one had ever looked at him the way she did—like he was worth seeing.

“Besides,” she added, “it’s not like I’m perfect either. I’m clumsy, I’m nosy, I’m impulsive… but you still want me here, don’t you?” She arched a brow, daring him to deny it.

He couldn’t. “Yes.”

Her smile softened. “Then stop trying to scare me off with warnings about how dark and dangerous you are. I’m not going anywhere.”

He huffed, but a tiny bubble of something light and hopeful rose in his chest. She believed in him. She saw him, scars and all, and she still chose to stay.

His hand slipped to the back of her neck, pulling her close until their foreheads touched. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” he murmured, his lips a breath away from hers.

She laughed softly. “Maybe. But you like that about me.”

He did. He liked everything about her—her stubbornness, her curiosity, her kindness. And as he claimed her mouth with his, tasting the warmth of her laughter, he knew he was in deep trouble. Because he didn’t just like her. He was falling for her. Hard. In a way that felt distinctly different from the need to claim her as his mate.

And that terrified him more than any snare in the woods. But as her arms wound around his neck, he knew he wouldn’t push her away again. He’d keep her close, keep her safe… and hope that somehow, it would be enough.

She pulled back, just far enough to look at him. “Make love to me.”

His blood heated, his cock swelling inside his sheath. “Are you sure? I told you that this time there would be no going back. That I would claim you.”

“I know.” She nipped lightly at his bottom lip. “I want to be with you, Thorn. All of you.”

He growled, low in his throat, and she shivered. The air between them crackled with energy, and he knew he couldn’t resist her, even if he wanted to. And gods help him, he didn’t want to resist. Not anymore.

He lifted her into his arms, ignoring her squeak of surprise and carried her over to the pool, laying her out on the thick bed of flowering moss. She gazed up at him, hair spread around her like a fiery halo.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, running a finger along the delicate line of her jaw.

She blushed, turning her face into his touch. “Thorn…”

“Let me touch you.” It was half request, half demand.

She nodded, and he wasted no time, hands roaming over her body, checking for any hidden injuries or signs of pain. But she was perfect—warm and soft and responsive to his touch.

“Thorn…” she whispered, and he looked up to find her watching him with an expression that stole his breath. Trust, desire, affection—all mixed together in those big, blue eyes.

He rose up, covering her body with his, claiming her lips in a kiss that left them both gasping. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groaned, lost in the sensation of her beneath him.

“I want you.” His voice came out hoarse, strained, but she didn’t pull away, leaning closer.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He shook his head, trying to find the words as his thumb feathered over her neck, the reddened place on her neck still visible.

“I don’t just mean now. I want to claim you. To make you mine forever.”