Page 27 of Forget Me Not (The Shifters of Timberfall #1)

Bastien

Patiently, he waited with his back to the woods. Syve made it clear she did not want him to see her strip, and the least he could do was respect that.

He jumped when he heard, what he could only describe as, one of those toy cans that mooed when you inverted it.

He was still questioning whether or not he was imagining things when he heard the sound again, followed by a loud thud. He risked a glance back toward Syve to find the doe flipped on her back, legs tangled over her body.

If it was possible to laugh in his current form, he would have been in hysterics. Instead, he chuffed and shook his head .

The look in her eyes screamed excitement. Apparently, she was just as impressed as he was that she had gotten the hang of things so quickly.

Bastien trotted over to Syve as she gracelessly flopped onto her stomach, and he stood beside her for support as she stood on shaky legs.

She leaned into him for a beat as she found her balance.

When he no longer felt her weight, he swung around to stand in front of her.

When he caught her attention, he wagged his tail, dropped into a playful bow, and then hopped a few yards away.

She seemed to understand his intentions, and after a handful of wobbly steps, she started bounding toward him—looking very much like a drunken rabbit.

The two carried on this way—him chasing her and her chasing him—until Syve pulled ahead and slipped out of sight, bursting past the brush edging the lake.

Bastien followed a second behind. When he leapt from the woods, skidding to a stop beside her, he startled a small herd of deer that had been drinking from the crystal water.

The lone buck had been approaching Syve—an act that spawned a low growl in Bastien’s throat.

He scolded himself for the act of possessiveness he had no right to show, let alone feel.

Together, the shifters watched as the does urged their spotted fawns into the trees opposite them, the buck the last to disappear after casting one last perplexed look in Syve’s direction .

Once the clearing was theirs alone, Bas watched Syve tiptoe over to a patch of wildflowers—the same flowers that were painted all over the door at her shop.

He followed her movements as she ducked her head low, nosing the little blue petals.

When she raised her head again, eyes closed as she faced the sun and looking like a giant brown sunflower, he was struck with an idea.

Bas whined to get her attention. When she looked his way, he gestured with a jerk of his head, asking her to follow him.

He led her through the flowers to an odd pile of both living and downed trees.

At least four fallen trunks were propped up by one sturdy green pine, creating a natural lean-to that looked just large enough for two people to hide under.

Various smaller logs and branches blocked off the opposite side, creating a perfect wall and further adding to its likeness to a tiny shelter.

She watched over his shoulder as he rooted around beneath one of the logs and pulled a simple brown backpack free.

He turned around and dropped the bag on the ground.

Hazel eyes followed the pack’s movement, then snapped back up to stare at him again.

Bas raised his brows, glanced down at the pack, and when she continued to stare at him, he mentally shrugged, then shifted.

What else he could possibly do with a backpack without thumbs, he wasn’t sure—she had to have realized he was going to shift back.

Oh well .

If she wanted to see him, he would let her .

Years of practice lead to a speedy transition and he was now standing right in front of her—very naked.

A minor oversight, he realized, was that his human height compared to Syve’s deer form left her precisely eye level with his hips.

With a startled bleat, she fell back, turning her head up and away.

“Tried to warn you, Bambi.” Bas chuckled as he crouched and dug around in the backpack.

“I thought you might like to feel the sun on your skin. If you ask me, the fur dulls the warmth.” He pulled out a pair of black sweats and quickly pulled them on.

“I’m decent. I have a shirt for you too—I’ll turn my back so you can shift.

It’s the same concept as before, just in reverse.

Oh, and you should do it under here, just in case. ”

He stepped out from under the little tree shelter so she could take his place. Most people that went hiking around Timberfall did so south of town, closer to Yellowstone, but there was always a chance someone might be milling around the lake—he knew firsthand.

He shook his head to clear the thought.

Syve turned away from him, facing the rotting logs and he took that as his cue to do the same.

“I won’t look, but I’ll be right here if you need me,” he assured her and settled down in the dirt.

While he waited, he dug out the two shirts he had packed and the second set of sweats, pulling on one shirt and folding the remaining clothes over his shoulder .

A few quiet moments passed with Bastien sitting contentedly, watching the water ripple under the gentle breeze. The gentle touch of her fingers against his shoulder as they wrapped around the clothes startled him, and it took everything he had to keep his eyes forward.

“Awfully convenient stash of clothes you found,” her tone was suspicious and mocking.

“After last time, I decided I should be a little more prepared,” he teased, lacing his hands behind his head, a cocky smirk taking up residence on his face. “I’ve hidden a few caches in strategic places. Next time I have to carry you out of the woods, at least I won’t freeze my—”

“Okay, okay. First of all, who said there was going to be a next time?” She guffawed. “Secondly…that’s a pretty good idea—oh my god, Bastien! You’re bleeding!” He felt her grab onto his right arm, one hand at the shoulder, the other on his elbow.

“Bas! You might need stitches! How did you do this?!” she scolded.

Dropping his hands from his head, he twisted his neck to look at the back of his arm, a gash, easily five inches long, ran the length of his bicep.

“Oh, I must have caught it on a rogue branch.” He shrugged and she let go. “It’s really not that bad; it’ll heal pretty quick.” He placed his hands on his thighs, rolled forward to stand, then walked to the water where he crouched down and splashed his arm to clean the cut .

“Are you out of your mind? You’re using dirty lake water to clean that? What if it gets infected?” She sounded close, like she had followed him to the water.

“Nah, it’ll heal fast enough—” He pivoted on his toes to face her, and the words died in his throat. Syve was standing there, in nothing but his shirt. The pants she had taken from him were hanging forgotten in one hand.

What was it about seeing a woman in his clothes? Some primal, claiming instinct? At least two sizes too big, the shirt hung nearly off one of her shoulders and down to the top of her thighs.

“Are you trying to tell me that you have super healing or something?” She gestured wildly with her empty hand, and it pulled the shirt higher up her legs.

Bas cleared his throat and stood abruptly, making every effort to keep his eyes on her face while also slipping a hand into his pocket to cover what would be a very embarrassing reaction to her attire.

“I wouldn’t call it super. But…accelerated?” He pursed his lips, brows furrowed. “Have you ever noticed—do you heal faster than expected?”

Stepping closer to him she said, “No, probably a downside to only being half…” She gestured vaguely at herself, which he noted from his peripherals because he was still doing his best not to look at her body again.

Especially now she was close enough that he could touch her, if he wanted to .

“I guess so, that’s unfortunate. It’s one of the better perks if you ask me,” he mused.

Suddenly her hands were on his face, pulling him down to look her right in the eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not just acting tough because I’m here, right?” Her eyes darted back and forth between his, searching for a lie.

“I promise,” he murmured, grabbing her wrists and stepping flush against her, “I’m fine and I’ll be fine.”

Syve sucked in a breath, and he almost regretted acting on impulse—but then she glanced at his lips—there and back, so quickly he could have missed it if he had blinked.

Bastien closed the distance and pressed his lips to hers, gently, an invitation she gingerly accepted.

When her eyes fluttered shut, his followed suit.

Just as he parted his lips for her, she gasped and jumped back.

“No. No, I’m sorry. I can’t, I’m sorry,” she stammered, one hand covering her mouth, the other wrapping around her middle.

Shit .

“Syve, it’s okay—that’s on me. I’m sorry. It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize.” He took a step back, giving her more space. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I just…I’m married? I can’t…” She was spiraling; he recognized that .

He diverted. “How did you meet?” When she blinked up at him, perplexed, he amended, “Your husband? How did you meet?”

“Oh.” She paused and took a deep breath.

“College. We met in college. Erhard was here as an exchange student and he just…never left,” she scoffed with a smile.

“He called his parents a few weeks after we met and told them he was applying for citizenship so that he could stay here with his future wife. We weren’t even dating then.

” She shook her head. “His parents were already pissed that he wasn’t staying home to run the farm, pursuing a cartography degree instead of milking cows, but then to say he wasn’t coming home?

” She grimaced. “I never did win them over...Made it worse when I wouldn’t let them take him home to be buried in the family plot… ” Her face fell.

“Cartography? Like, maps? I thought he was a photographer?” He asked, shifting the subject again.

“Yeah, actually he did both. He worked for the state as a cartographer and freelanced as a photographer on the side. That’s why we moved here—” she waved her arm around her, “—the state job. I didn’t care where we lived and then Aimi followed without question.”

She relaxed a little, and he relished that she could still talk normally with him. He was going to spend the rest of his life feeling obtuse for misreading the situation, but at least she did not seem entirely repulsed by him .

Syve shivered, he resisted the urge to go to her to lend his body heat. Instead, he said, “We should head back before it gets dark.”

She looked at the sky like she had not noticed the sun was setting.

“You shift first—you’ll be warmer. I’ll pack the clothes away and then we can head back?”

Five minutes later, Bas had the pack back under the logs, and they were running side by side through the darkening forest.