delight eased any concern he mightâve had about her being comfortable in the rich green wilderness that sang to his changeling soul. Slinging the duffel with her stuff over his shoulder, he clasped her hand in his, eager to have her in his home. âIâll run back for the groceries.â He couldnât wait to show her all his favorite spots in the forest, his leopard as excited as a cub.
When a lynx with thick golden-brown fur wandered over just as they were about to reach the aerie, Kirby froze on a wondering gasp. âIs that . . .â
âNot a changeling.â Crouching down, he ran his hand over the creatureâs back, its tufted ears standing straight up. âBut, heâs a friend of mine.â
Kirby came down beside him, one of her hands braced on his thigh in the sweetest torture. âWill he allow me to pet him?â Wistful need.
âHere.â Taking hold of her hand after she settled on her knees, he held it out to the lynxâs nose. âDonât feel bad if he decides against you,â Bastien said, wanting her to enjoy her first brush with the areaâs natural wildlife. âThe damn beast took six months to deign me acceptable.â
Except the lynx took one sniff at Kirby and jumped up to place his front paws on her thighs. âBastien, oh, heâs beautiful.â Face suffused with joy, Kirby began to stroke the cat.
Bastien considered the intriguing tableau. Regardless of species, none of the wild creatures were this friendly to anyone outside the pack. Of course, Kirby had such neat little claws . . . yeah, they couldâve been of a lynx.
Settling with his back against a tree, legs out in front of him, he watched her pet the utterly lazy, spoilt creature now sprawled in her lap. That lynx was going to follow her around every time she was in the area, he thought with anaffectionate grin for his wild counterpart. Bastien would likely find it on the branches outside their aerie, waiting for her.
Well done, cat,
he thought a little ruefully, his own leopard yet deprived of her touch.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
KIRBY and Bastien finally reached their destination a half hour from that meeting, the lynx having left them ten minutes earlier with an affectionate brush of his body against Kirbyâs legs. Now, Kirby watched Bastien climb up to the aerie hidden in the arms of a massive tree, one so big, she couldnât take it all in.
This world intoxicated her with its magnificence, the way Bastien moved in it, his muscles fluid, a primal song. Heâd climbed the tree using his claws, yet had left only faint marks on the trunk that would soon close over, not a single gouge to be seen. Just one more sign that he wasnât an intruder here, but an accepted part of this incredible ecosystem, one who respected the land that nurtured him.
âRope ladder coming down!â he called out after disappearing behind the leaves with her duffel.
âThankââ She screamed as Bastien jumped from his high perch . . . to land with the pouncing grace of the cat he was, his powerful body ending up in a crouch.
âSorry if I scared you.â A sheepish look. âI forget it looks dangerous.â
âNo.â Kirby waved the hand sheâd thrown out in a futile attempt to stop him. âIâm used to changelings jumping out of trees,â she said through her still-thumping heart. âMost of them are five years old, and the trees are only a hundred times shorter than this one, but same principle.â In truth, heâd been magnificent, a fact she could appreciate now that she wasnât swamped in terror.
His smile creased his cheeks, his green eyes backlit with an untamed glow. âA smartass. I like it.â Tugging at her so she fell against his chest, he ran his hands boldly down to her butt, squeezed. âI like this ass even better. Makes me want to