Page 212 of Beasts of Mine

I closed the drawer.

“You're leaving it?” Tavian asked from behind me, surprise lifting his voice while he stayed several feet outside the nest instead of following me in.

“Yes. I'm going to need a shirt when I come back.” I told Tavian as I stood and looked back at him. His purr started so quickly that I nearly laughed. The low sound filled the room while his shoulders dropped slightly, some of the tension finally leaving them.

I crossed to the shelf and picked up my finished field notebook. That still contained information I wanted access to at home, so I slipped it into my personal bag with the pencil tucked inside the cover. The spare hair tie and empty card cases could stay.

Then my fingers rested on Tavian's smooth dark stone.

“You're leaving that too?” Tavian asked as he came one step closer, his attention fixed on the stone beneath my thumb.

“Yes. It belongs on my shelf.” I answered Tavian as I rubbed my thumb once across its polished surface before leaving it exactly where it was. The words affected him more than I'd expected. His purr deepened, and he kept looking toward the shelf even after my hand moved away, but that shouldn't have surprised me. He'd carried the thing around for weeks because he wanted me to have somewhere I actually wanted to put it.

I opened the small front pocket of my camera bag and removed the tiny spiral shell he'd given me near the waterfall. I'd moved it from the outer mesh pocket a long time ago because trusting something that small to an open section of a camera bag was asking for disaster.

“This one is coming with me.” I told Tavian as I held the shell between my fingers.

“You still have it.” Tavian said as his attention snapped from the shelf to the shell, a genuine smile appearing despite everything else going on.

“I've had it this entire time.” I reminded Tavian as I returned it to the protected pocket.

“You could've lost it.” Tavian pointed out as he moved close enough for both hands to settle around my hips.

“I don't generally lose things inside my camera bag.” I told Tavian as I zipped the pocket closed.

“That wasn't really what I meant.” Tavian admitted as his thumbs rubbed slowly along my sides, his smile fading into something softer.

“I know. I'm taking it.” I answered Tavian as I lifted both hands to his face and kissed him. His purr strengthened against my palms, and Tavian kissed me again before reluctantly stepping aside when Luca approached.

Luca held a folded piece of dark fabric in one hand.

“What did you make?” I asked Luca as I accepted it, recognizing the neat stitching around the edge before I'd completely unfolded it.

“A wrap for your charging cables. They go inside, then these tie around the outside so they don't snag on anything.” Luca explained as he crouched beside my open camera bag and pointed toward the cords currently held together with rubber ties.

I rubbed the material between my fingertips. It wasn't new fabric and had already been worn soft in places, while sandalwood and fresh herbs remained easy to recognize when I lifted it closer.

“This was yours.” I told Luca as I glanced down at him.

“Part of an old shirt. Most of it was too worn to use anymore, but that section was fine.” Luca admitted as he rested one forearm against his raised knee, a hint of uncertainty appearing in his face while he waited to see what I thought.

Of course his goodbye gift was practical, recycled, and somehow specifically useful for my equipment. I crouched beside him and laid several charging cables across the fabric before wrapping the sides around them and tying the narrow straps. Nothing slipped or caught when I picked the bundle up.

“I like it.” I told Luca as I tucked it into the camera bag and pressed down lightly to make sure it fit beneath the divider.

“You haven't used it in the field yet. You can tell me if it's terrible when you get back.” Luca reminded me as he watched me close the compartment.

“I'll make notes.” I promised Luca as I leaned toward him and kissed him.

“I expect detailed criticism.” Luca replied as he smiled against my mouth, one hand settling briefly at my waist before I straightened.

Malek didn't need to give me anything because his charcoal shirt was already in the nest. I picked it up and held the fabric against my chest before I could think too hard about how automatic the movement had become. Cedar, damp earth, and faint smoke still clung strongly to the soft material.

“I'm taking this.” I told Malek as I looked toward him and began folding the shirt loosely.

“I know.” Malek replied as the smallest hint of amusement appeared around his mouth.

“You sound very sure of yourself.” I told Malek as I placed the shirt near the top of my personal bag where I wouldn't have to dig for it later.