Blackfeather Woods i am—yet what I am none cares or knows;

all at once, they had paused; cicero's lips were between her shoulder-blades, and against her better judgement, the evoker closed her eyes. the preening of his teeth was welcome; so long it had been since she had been touched. so long — the threat of a headache began, and relmyna shoved aside her cloying thoughts.
she drew away from cicero for a moment, her eyes meeting his own; the wolfess stepped forward and ran her own lips along his throat; they were no longer playing, her latent hunger roused. and who better than he who had made her who she was?