Their clothing returned beside them, all of it together, from the looks of things. A question pinched behind his ribs, furrowing his brow with added uncertainty.
Shocked, he realized it wasn’t his emotion, it was hers. “Fern?”
“I bit you,” she murmured from her face-planted position in his chest hair.
“You did. Is that okay? I hope your animal didn’t force you. I wanted it to be your choice.”
“Oh, no, I told her to do that.”
When he chuckled, her head bounced, and she lifted her face to look at him. That uncertainty was still there, tweaking his heart.
“We’re permanent,” she breathed reverently, lowering her lips to his.
Their embrace was soft and sweet, twenty tiny kisses that culminated with him pulling her bottom lip between his teeth. But still, that questioning sensation pervaded the moment. “We are, and I’m so happy. But what’swrong?”
“How do you know something’s wrong?”
“I can feel you, in my chest.”
“You can— Oh my god, isthatwhat that contentment is? It’s your feelings? Is this part of the mate bond? None of you jerks told me this is part of it! Is it permanent?”
“It is,” he confirmed, smiling at the look of awe on her face. A rock, maybe a branch, dug into his right asscheek, but he didn’t mind. “But what’swrong? I can feel your uncertainty.”
“Obviously! WhatamI?”
“Oh my god, sorry! You’re an otter!” he grinned, pleased to pieces that he could resolve the issue at hand. Of course she didn’t know what she was, she couldn’t see herself, and they hadn’t exactly raced past a mirror.
She arched her back, her whole body beaming alongside her mouth. “Thank fuck! I was worried I was a beaver.”
“I think they’re rodents.”
“Oh.” Settling in again, she slid to his side and slung one thigh over top of his legs like they were lying in bed, not surrounded by birdsong and bushes. Her fingers tangled in his chest hair, and he met her there, interweaving his hand with hers. “Why’s my visionworsein animal form? I can smell better, definitely. I can hear better, which is cool. But when I do the thing”—she waved her fingers in front of her eyes—“everything gets blurrier, not sharper.Am I defective?”
“You’re not defective,” he chuckled. “If your animal has better vision than a human, you can shift it better. You will be able to make more out at night as an otter, even if it’s blurry.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah, and you have a membrane over your eyes, so if you don’t mind a little blur, you should be able to shift them and keep your peepers open underwater.”
“That is super freaking cool.” Maybe she could have tiny glasses made for hanging out in animal form. She didn’t need them otherwise.
“Yeah, and you’re not a walrus,” he added.
“I could’ve been awalrus? I’m so glad I’m an otter.”
“Playful. Sleek. Loves to swim. Mischievous. It fits the bill.”
“Don’t ever crush me, though. Your bear’s huge.”
“I won’t. But you should stop running under my legs,” he teased.
Fern’s chest squeaked—humans were going to think she had bad asthma. “She’s not going to stop doing that,” she said.
“It’ll be fine. I’m always aware of exactly where you are. I’ll do my damnedest to keep you safe and happy,forever.”
“Is that so?” Fern asked, sneaking her hand away from his to trail down his abdomen. She squeezed her thigh against him and slid it up, pressing against his half-hard cock. “I trust you to keep me safe, but how will you keep me happy?”
Her fingers wrapped around his length, and he growled, “Let’s go wash up, and I’ll show you.”
