Dragoncrest Cliffs Widowmaker

Every muscle in Wildfire's body grew stiff with tension at the sound of the growl and she unthinkingly mimicked her mate's warning. She turned into a stone when Thuringwethil attempted to nudge her away from Artaax, though in the blink of an eye, she scooted backward. Her tongue darted out to flick against her nose, which stung at the contact. She didn't even wince, just repeated the gesture a few more times to get rid of the blood while staring down at the commander cleaning the mewling pup.

"I was trying to protect him." The words were quiet and edgy, with a pleading undertone. She might not feel love for their children right now—and she was grappling hard with that fact—but she would never hurt them, not on purpose. Surely the Heda must know that? In fact, she would go to any length to protect them, which reminded her: "It was a black widow, Thur. I think it bit me."