as Victor leaned in and kissed her once, hard. “Stay safe.”
Simone latched the door to keep it from banging open in the wind and began gathering supplies as best she could. She packed two crates, including a lighter one for Victor, and scrambled about to find his box, the one he’d already had stowed in his cabin.
He’d left it behind.
She cursed and shoved open the door. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t save a picture and a few books, not if they were precious enough for him to keep in the first place.
The rain had worsened, and Simone dashed her hands across her eyes more than once to clear them. They’d left the cabin door open in their haste, and she splashed through ankle-deep water to retrieve Victor’s personal effects.
Whatever lay in the bottom of the box was ruined, but some of it could still be saved. She hoisted it in her arms and shivered her way through the rain, back to the boathouse.
He emerged from the tree line, moving a little faster, as she reached the door. He waved an arm and called something, but the wind stole the words.
In a few seconds, she managed to consolidate the two packed crates and balance Victor’s on top of it. Her muscles burned, but she didn’t have far to go, and she kept even footing all the way up the small hill. “Did you find something?”
He reached for the small crate on top with a frown. “You shouldn’t have risked going back for this. None of it will make life easier for us.”
Only a few days before, his severe tone would have hurt her feelings. Now, she shot back, “This is important to you, and that makes it important to me. Besides, you can’t replace it.”
A noise escaped him, something between a snarl and a laugh. “You’re irresistible when you’re snapping at me.”
Her cheeks heated. “You must be a glutton for punishment.”
He just smiled and urged her along the narrow path as the wind whipped through the pine trees around them. “Up ahead. I broke in and lit a lantern—can you see the light from the window?”
She could see it, a small but steady glow through the gale. By the time they reached the cabin, she was drenched anew and trembling from the cold.
Simone dropped her burden on a dusty table, her teeth chattering. “Would a summer home like this have laid in a supply of firewood or coal?”
“There’s some firewood here.” Victor crossed to a wide, flat hearth and knelt. “I’m not sure how long it will last, though. I think we need to shift instead.”
Simone studied the room for a moment—including the lone bed. “We can make a den, of sorts. If we draw that bench over and turn it on its side beside the bed, then mostly block the space under the foot there… With the two of us together, it should keep us warm.”
Victor glanced over his shoulder to study the bed, then nodded and set aside the log he held. “If we lay out our clothes and blankets, they’ll dry well enough on their own. We’ll save the firewood for later, then, in case we need it.”
“Good idea.” She kept her silence as she unfolded several blankets.
The only problem with their plan was the fact that she’d have to strip out of her clothes in front of Victor. If the change had ever come easily to her, her nakedness would last a matter of moments. But she wasn’t strong, never had been, and might end up grasping for that primal flicker of magic for long minutes.
With sufficient bedding spread out to dry, Simone bit her lip and hesitated with her fingers on the top button of her shirt. “How do you… I mean…”
His lips curved into a gentle smile as he turned his back on her. “I won’t peek.”
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t—” The words hung in her throat as Victor’s shirt slid from his shoulders to reveal dark, angry lines, a patchwork of bruises covering his back and sides.
She stepped closer without thinking, lifting her hand to hover over his battered skin. “Are you all right?”
“They’ll be gone by
Simone latched the door to keep it from banging open in the wind and began gathering supplies as best she could. She packed two crates, including a lighter one for Victor, and scrambled about to find his box, the one he’d already had stowed in his cabin.
He’d left it behind.
She cursed and shoved open the door. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t save a picture and a few books, not if they were precious enough for him to keep in the first place.
The rain had worsened, and Simone dashed her hands across her eyes more than once to clear them. They’d left the cabin door open in their haste, and she splashed through ankle-deep water to retrieve Victor’s personal effects.
Whatever lay in the bottom of the box was ruined, but some of it could still be saved. She hoisted it in her arms and shivered her way through the rain, back to the boathouse.
He emerged from the tree line, moving a little faster, as she reached the door. He waved an arm and called something, but the wind stole the words.
In a few seconds, she managed to consolidate the two packed crates and balance Victor’s on top of it. Her muscles burned, but she didn’t have far to go, and she kept even footing all the way up the small hill. “Did you find something?”
He reached for the small crate on top with a frown. “You shouldn’t have risked going back for this. None of it will make life easier for us.”
Only a few days before, his severe tone would have hurt her feelings. Now, she shot back, “This is important to you, and that makes it important to me. Besides, you can’t replace it.”
A noise escaped him, something between a snarl and a laugh. “You’re irresistible when you’re snapping at me.”
Her cheeks heated. “You must be a glutton for punishment.”
He just smiled and urged her along the narrow path as the wind whipped through the pine trees around them. “Up ahead. I broke in and lit a lantern—can you see the light from the window?”
She could see it, a small but steady glow through the gale. By the time they reached the cabin, she was drenched anew and trembling from the cold.
Simone dropped her burden on a dusty table, her teeth chattering. “Would a summer home like this have laid in a supply of firewood or coal?”
“There’s some firewood here.” Victor crossed to a wide, flat hearth and knelt. “I’m not sure how long it will last, though. I think we need to shift instead.”
Simone studied the room for a moment—including the lone bed. “We can make a den, of sorts. If we draw that bench over and turn it on its side beside the bed, then mostly block the space under the foot there… With the two of us together, it should keep us warm.”
Victor glanced over his shoulder to study the bed, then nodded and set aside the log he held. “If we lay out our clothes and blankets, they’ll dry well enough on their own. We’ll save the firewood for later, then, in case we need it.”
“Good idea.” She kept her silence as she unfolded several blankets.
The only problem with their plan was the fact that she’d have to strip out of her clothes in front of Victor. If the change had ever come easily to her, her nakedness would last a matter of moments. But she wasn’t strong, never had been, and might end up grasping for that primal flicker of magic for long minutes.
With sufficient bedding spread out to dry, Simone bit her lip and hesitated with her fingers on the top button of her shirt. “How do you… I mean…”
His lips curved into a gentle smile as he turned his back on her. “I won’t peek.”
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t—” The words hung in her throat as Victor’s shirt slid from his shoulders to reveal dark, angry lines, a patchwork of bruises covering his back and sides.
She stepped closer without thinking, lifting her hand to hover over his battered skin. “Are you all right?”
“They’ll be gone by
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