Starglow Basin corazon

maybe @Osiel?

the basin stretched out before saya, a patchwork of frosted earth and whispers of dormant crops, their promise of life buried beneath the winter's stillness. her silver coat caught the pale light, a shimmer against the cold landscape, while her sharp blue eyes traced the neat rows with quiet contemplation.

she moved with grace, each step deliberate as if the frozen ground beneath her were made of glass. the chill bit at her paws, but she paid it no mind, her focus fixed on the fields beyond. it was an odd thing, the way the earth slept so deeply now, yet held the weight of what would come.

so much had happened, and though she wore her composure like a second skin, even saya felt the undercurrent of change rippling through the basin. it was there in the way the wind carried whispers, in the unease that lingered just beneath the surface of things.

saya let out a quiet sigh, her breath visible in the crisp air. she was not a woman easily swayed by sentiment, but the sight of the fields stirred something within her. her gaze softened, her thoughts turning inward as she stood there, a sleek figure of silver and blue amidst the quiet stillness of the basin.

He watches her from the dark mouth of the stone quarter alcove. Winter has come to the desert and Saya’s breaths roll into cool mist above silver ears. Fiamma and Segundo have gone for the green seeds. The frosted earth awaits sow.

“Soto is pleased with you,” the deep voice pushes out into the heavy grey atmosphere followed by a deepening tread of pawstep. Beside the halcón Osiel stands, close enough to glean the heady sweetness of her breath from the air.

his presence doesn't go unnoticed by her, though she is still surprised to see the patrón at her side, watching, gawking even, from his position. she turns only slightly to face him.

soto. she didn't care about soto. there'd been something wrong with him, deranged—

not that her opinion mattered. it never did.

and you? she'd ask with the cold breeze lingering around them. it filtered as a vacuum, devoiding her of her most futile senses.

For long he regards her profile, the delicate form again within his sights. Her wounds had healed. She bore them still, but they did not detract from a face and figure which would hold any man in its sway. The ocelot turns face, expression emptied of anything that is not stone.

He grunts and steps down into the churned earth, where he would look upon her in full.

“No, Saya. I am not satisfied.”

saya’s silver-blue eyes lifted to meet his, quiet but questioning. his words settled like a stone in her chest, heavy and uncertain. she held his gaze for a moment, her expression softening, though there was still an air of caution in the way she regarded him.

what would you have me do, then? she asked, her voice low and steady, lacking defiance but laced with genuine curiosity.

there was no edge to her tone, only a quiet earnestness as she searched his face, trying to understand the weight behind his words.

She seemed then so far removed from the brash woman who had come to them. There was a new vulnerability, a suppleness waiting to be sculpted by his paw, a sweet capitulation he sought in the fair breeding of women he would take to mate.

His eyes burned over her now. He desired her. There, in the fields, where any could come upon their rut. His lips pull to a heady grin and a broad forward step brings his cold nose to graze the edge of her cheek.

“I would have you with me, Saya.”

But the basin. Its beauty, its teal waters and russet spires– it was to be Soto’s empire, and the alluring halcón woman his to savor.

Osiel would not stay. His purpose lay elsewhere, far from the empty desert. His red eyes say as much, even as a paw pulls her roughly against his chest.

saya’s breath caught as his touch lingered against her cheek, the cold graze of his nose sending a shiver through her. this was what she wanted, wasn’t it? to be seen, desired, possessed. the belligerent patrón, the man who could strip her of her defenses and still leave her wanting. she drew in a deep breath, steadying the tremble that threatened to escape her chest.

his words lingered in the air, heavy and deliberate. i would have you with me, saya. the promise, the declaration—it should have satisfied her, yet it brought with it a question she dared not voice. for how long?

you say it as if you plan to leave, with me. not us? what was soto's thoughts— if he had any. she doubted it. he was bloodthirsty on his own plan, and she was a mere pawn. useful for his taste, worthless for his eyes.

“Yes,” he solders her silver cheek with a slow kiss, attuned to the changes that come over her face, eyes lighting with ambivalence. They both endure a role reversal, for the ocelot whose so forthright remains sphinx-like; nose to ear.
He was married. He had a wife and children to return to, but truly, this wasn’t about those relationships. It was about business.

“Verapaz can be the wellspring of the coca leaf. The headwaters from which all traffic flows. But so few bear to see how the sausage gets made,” irony raises his hips into a smile. “Stay. Serve Soto. Transform this dirt plot into an empire. Or come away with me, Saya. But know I go far from this place.”

He combed his teeth through her fur, a sweet taste heightened by the fact she was the prospect of another man.

saya leaned into his touch, her silver fur brushing against his lips as his words curled around her like smoke. her blue eyes softened but held their spark, their intensity undiminished as she let herself linger in the moment, savoring the weight of his proximity. his touch wasn’t gentle—it carried the authority of a man who expected the world to bend to his will—but she welcomed it, allowed it, leaned into it as though it were a comfort she had long denied herself.

i’ve never served soto, she murmured, her voice a silken promise, edged with defiance. her eyes sought his, unwavering. it has always been you.

she exhaled, a soft sigh that might have been resignation—or perhaps resolve. i’ll follow you, osiel, she said, her tone steady. for as long as i can. there was no pretense in her words, no flourish of drama—just the plain truth, laid bare like the space between them.

and still, she pressed closer, as if to seal her promise with her presence.

It was a dedication he’d never once heard from the lips of Solana; a commitment that flattered the masculine self and ignited a surge of feeling for the fair-faced woman he had valued thus far only for her cool-toned beauty. Her eyes shone like two moons and in his own the red planets were transfixed. He used his mouth to join their lips, his shoulders to round her upon the dirt. Words were only wind; Osiel intended to have her every way a man could.

“Then you will be mine– and I your’s,” his teeth explore the curve of her temple, and when she looks up at him he kisses her in a way he never does his wife.

“Gather your things," he rolls the commands into her lips between licks,  "we will leave in the morning.”

saya pressed herself into his touch, her silver fur blending into the heat of his body as his lips claimed hers. her breaths came in soft, shallow pulls, as if she were tethering herself to this moment, to him. her hands found their way to the sharp planes of his jaw, pulling him closer, returning his kisses with an urgency that spoke of her final decision.

okay, she murmured against his mouth, the word barely audible, but filled with resolve.

there was no hesitation now, no looking back. verapaz, its promises and its chains, would no longer hold her. she would follow osiel, for as long as she could, wherever his path might lead.

when he pulled back to speak, his words carried weight, and she nodded, her blue eyes meeting his. silently, she committed herself to the journey ahead, to a life away from the basin, and to him.