A Clan of Novaks
Page 42
I felt Bastien’s breath against my neck as he looked over our shoulder at our hands pressed together. His fingers curved upward and closed around the tips of mine. His palms were so rough, toughened from God knew how many human years of swinging through the trees.
I twined my fingers with his and lifted his hand, resting it back on his knee from where I had taken it.
Bastien cleared his throat. “The packs were not planning to stay here for long,” he said. “They may already be up and getting ready to leave now. I think we should head back down.”
I shuffled forward a little on the branch as he raised himself. He reached down a hand and helped me up before guiding me onto his back. After making sure I was holding on tight enough, he began to carry me down the tree in long, graceful leaps. He dropped about six feet at a time, making my stomach lurch and clench. On reaching the ground, we returned to the lake where we had left the other wolves. All the wolves within my view still appeared to be asleep.
“They will rise soon,” Bastien informed me. “But since we are awake, we might as well make good use of this time.”
He carried me away from the crowds of sleeping wolves, in a diagonal line toward the lake. We entered a thick cluster of trees that lined its border. Snaking his way through them, he brought us to a small, enclosed piece of grassland. The trees formed a natural shield from the rest of the woods. I couldn’t see a single wolf from where we stood.
He walked to the bank and put me down. Kneeling, he drank palmful after palmful of water. Realizing that I was thirsty myself, I scooped up some water too and drank. It wasn’t quite as crystal clear as the river water had been, but it still tasted pure and clean.
Once I had fully rehydrated myself, I glanced at Bastien. He was standing now, unbuttoning his shirt. He discarded it, revealing the marvel that his physique was, before diving into the lake.
Water splashed around me, a few droplets falling on my face and hands. The water was cold, and I shivered just at the thought of going in there. But as I watched him dip beneath the surface and begin swimming, I felt the urge to join him. I wasn’t sure when I’d next get the chance for a wash. Something told me that on this crazy journey, I needed to take opportunities as they came.
I removed my jacket and hung it carefully on a tree branch. Then I paused, wondering about the rest of my clothes. I had a bra and underpants on, but even though I had worn a bikini plenty of times in public, I felt shy about Bastien seeing so much of me. Instead I rummaged in my satchel for one of the loose, oversized shirts Brucella had provided. All the garments she’d given me were loose and baggy—more fit for a man than a woman—but I guessed that had been on purpose. I ducked behind a tree and pulled on a shirt that reached just beneath my thighs while removing my pants. Now it felt like I was wearing a dress.
Emerging from the tree, I waded into the water. Goosebumps ran along my skin, and my insides clenched up. Gritting my teeth, I submerged myself to my neck. I let out an involuntary gasp before kicking my legs hard and swimming frantically, hoping to warm up. With a few broad strokes of his arms, Bastien reached me. A faint smile was on his lips. Apparently he was amused by how rapidly I’d been swimming.
“I don’t plan on staying in here long,” I muttered.
Bastien’s eyes flickered to my wet shirt. A wet, white shirt. I might as well have been wearing no shirt. At least I’d had the sense to keep my bra on.
“You’re shivering,” he commented, reaching out and touching my cheek.
So I was. I hadn’t noticed. I was about to turn around and head back to the bank immediately, afraid that I might catch pneumonia or something, when he took hold of my hands and drew me to him. His hands slid around my waist and flattened against my back as he pulled me against his bare chest. His arms wound around me. He held me so flush against him, I could feel every contour of the front of his body, as he could mine. My cheeks must have been a bright tomato red by now.
“Do you feel warmer now?” Bastien asked.
I felt “warmer now” in more ways than I cared to admit. “Yes,” I managed.
We were so close, I couldn’t look at his face without our noses touching. My cheek rested against his rough one, and the feel of his stubble against my skin sent tingles down my spine, as it had done back in his armory.
I didn’t doubt for a moment that his gesture was innocent. He had seen that I was cold, and this was his solution to warming me. I wondered if he even realized the effect his touch had on me.
His head lowered to the base of my neck. My breath hitched as, suddenly, his lips were grazing my skin. I couldn’t help but think for a moment that I was going to have to make a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn in my assumption about his intentions… but he did not plant a kiss against my neck. Of course not, Victoria! Why would you think he’d do that? He just breathed in deeply. He was taking in my scent… Just something that wolves do.
When he raised his head again, I leaned my own backward so that our faces would not be quite so close together as I looked at him. He was frowning.
“I like you, Victoria,” he said softly.
I smiled. It would have been a lie to say that I didn’t like him, too. He had grown on me quite unexpectedly in the short time we’d spent together.
“I hope we can be friends even after… all this,” I replied.
Bastien said nothing, though he continued to gaze at me. He was studying me like I was a curious specimen of some kind. His eyes trailed from my forehead down to my nose before settling, and lingering, on my lips. I found myself biting my lower one, feeling self-conscious beneath his attention. I didn’t think a boy had ever looked at me this closely before. But there was something about the warmth in his eyes in this moment—if warmth was even possible for such steely gray irises—that rendered me unable to pry myself away from his gaze, even as I wondered what he found so interesting about me.
I twined my fingers with his and lifted his hand, resting it back on his knee from where I had taken it.
Bastien cleared his throat. “The packs were not planning to stay here for long,” he said. “They may already be up and getting ready to leave now. I think we should head back down.”
I shuffled forward a little on the branch as he raised himself. He reached down a hand and helped me up before guiding me onto his back. After making sure I was holding on tight enough, he began to carry me down the tree in long, graceful leaps. He dropped about six feet at a time, making my stomach lurch and clench. On reaching the ground, we returned to the lake where we had left the other wolves. All the wolves within my view still appeared to be asleep.
“They will rise soon,” Bastien informed me. “But since we are awake, we might as well make good use of this time.”
He carried me away from the crowds of sleeping wolves, in a diagonal line toward the lake. We entered a thick cluster of trees that lined its border. Snaking his way through them, he brought us to a small, enclosed piece of grassland. The trees formed a natural shield from the rest of the woods. I couldn’t see a single wolf from where we stood.
He walked to the bank and put me down. Kneeling, he drank palmful after palmful of water. Realizing that I was thirsty myself, I scooped up some water too and drank. It wasn’t quite as crystal clear as the river water had been, but it still tasted pure and clean.
Once I had fully rehydrated myself, I glanced at Bastien. He was standing now, unbuttoning his shirt. He discarded it, revealing the marvel that his physique was, before diving into the lake.
Water splashed around me, a few droplets falling on my face and hands. The water was cold, and I shivered just at the thought of going in there. But as I watched him dip beneath the surface and begin swimming, I felt the urge to join him. I wasn’t sure when I’d next get the chance for a wash. Something told me that on this crazy journey, I needed to take opportunities as they came.
I removed my jacket and hung it carefully on a tree branch. Then I paused, wondering about the rest of my clothes. I had a bra and underpants on, but even though I had worn a bikini plenty of times in public, I felt shy about Bastien seeing so much of me. Instead I rummaged in my satchel for one of the loose, oversized shirts Brucella had provided. All the garments she’d given me were loose and baggy—more fit for a man than a woman—but I guessed that had been on purpose. I ducked behind a tree and pulled on a shirt that reached just beneath my thighs while removing my pants. Now it felt like I was wearing a dress.
Emerging from the tree, I waded into the water. Goosebumps ran along my skin, and my insides clenched up. Gritting my teeth, I submerged myself to my neck. I let out an involuntary gasp before kicking my legs hard and swimming frantically, hoping to warm up. With a few broad strokes of his arms, Bastien reached me. A faint smile was on his lips. Apparently he was amused by how rapidly I’d been swimming.
“I don’t plan on staying in here long,” I muttered.
Bastien’s eyes flickered to my wet shirt. A wet, white shirt. I might as well have been wearing no shirt. At least I’d had the sense to keep my bra on.
“You’re shivering,” he commented, reaching out and touching my cheek.
So I was. I hadn’t noticed. I was about to turn around and head back to the bank immediately, afraid that I might catch pneumonia or something, when he took hold of my hands and drew me to him. His hands slid around my waist and flattened against my back as he pulled me against his bare chest. His arms wound around me. He held me so flush against him, I could feel every contour of the front of his body, as he could mine. My cheeks must have been a bright tomato red by now.
“Do you feel warmer now?” Bastien asked.
I felt “warmer now” in more ways than I cared to admit. “Yes,” I managed.
We were so close, I couldn’t look at his face without our noses touching. My cheek rested against his rough one, and the feel of his stubble against my skin sent tingles down my spine, as it had done back in his armory.
I didn’t doubt for a moment that his gesture was innocent. He had seen that I was cold, and this was his solution to warming me. I wondered if he even realized the effect his touch had on me.
His head lowered to the base of my neck. My breath hitched as, suddenly, his lips were grazing my skin. I couldn’t help but think for a moment that I was going to have to make a hundred-and-eighty-degree turn in my assumption about his intentions… but he did not plant a kiss against my neck. Of course not, Victoria! Why would you think he’d do that? He just breathed in deeply. He was taking in my scent… Just something that wolves do.
When he raised his head again, I leaned my own backward so that our faces would not be quite so close together as I looked at him. He was frowning.
“I like you, Victoria,” he said softly.
I smiled. It would have been a lie to say that I didn’t like him, too. He had grown on me quite unexpectedly in the short time we’d spent together.
“I hope we can be friends even after… all this,” I replied.
Bastien said nothing, though he continued to gaze at me. He was studying me like I was a curious specimen of some kind. His eyes trailed from my forehead down to my nose before settling, and lingering, on my lips. I found myself biting my lower one, feeling self-conscious beneath his attention. I didn’t think a boy had ever looked at me this closely before. But there was something about the warmth in his eyes in this moment—if warmth was even possible for such steely gray irises—that rendered me unable to pry myself away from his gaze, even as I wondered what he found so interesting about me.
