Page 36 of Forget Me Not (The Shifters of Timberfall #1)

Syve

“Stay here.”

The order shocked her. Bastien had never talked to her so aggressively before. He turned, not even bothering to remove his shorts before shifting and he was gone.

“Bastien!” she cried after him, watching as he sprinted along the lake.

How was she supposed to just stay there? Panic set in as he broke away from the water’s edge, angling toward the trees. A few more seconds and she wouldn’t be able to see him at all.

There was no way she was going to stay there .

Whipping his shirt off, she focused on shifting as fast as she could—not daring to take her eyes off the wolf for even a second.

Shifting under pressure proved to be frustratingly difficult and took her far longer than she had time for.

When this was all said and done, she was going to start practicing—literally shifting back and forth until she could do it as fluidly as he just had.

Hooves finally on the ground, she tore off, aiming for the gap in the pine where she last saw him.

Adrenaline fueled her as she flew through the woods, praying he continued to run a straight line and she was not going in the wrong direction.

She slowed when she entered a section of reforestation, the smaller trees making it harder not just to see, but to move at all.

Fierce growling to her right had her jumping back into action, fighting her way past the low branches.

The pines gave way, spilling her out onto an old dirt road. The scene before her played out in slow motion. Bastien was going after a hunter, the hunter was reaching for something at his waist, a pistol, but it was too late to intervene.

Wolf and man collided, a shot rang out as they crashed to the ground and slowly, blood began to stain his perfect silver fur.

“BASTIEN!”

Her own voice startled her, not knowing exactly when she had returned to her human form. Rocks dug into her feet, yet she ran anyway, watching as Bas staggered then slumped into the dirt. She dropped to her knees when she reached his side, carefully grabbing his head, begging him to look at her.

One blink and then his body went slack.

“Bas! BAS! No!” she sobbed, eyes darting everywhere desperately searching for a solution. Aside from a wounded wolf, a naked woman, a dead elk and a camo-clad man, of whose current state she was neither sure of nor cared, there was nothing.

“I’ll be right back—I can’t carry you. I have to get help! I’ll be right back. I swear I’ll be right back!” she promised, pressing her forehead to his. Gently, she laid his head down, shifted quicker than ever before, and ran.

Two miles. That is how far the lake was from the Yerovi house, Bastien had told her that once. Syve had no idea how far from the lake she had chased after him.

She stormed into the back yard, cleared the steps to the porch and slid to a stop. Cyrus was just stepping out of the back door, a tray laden with a variety of meats clearly meant for the grill, his brows furrowing the moment he noticed her.

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 a thump , 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.