woman on fire

“My grandparents were traditional and wanted the Frostfur name carried on,” he offered, his eyes drifting lazily over his mate. Shifting his weight so he could push his nose closer to her nape, Scimitar released a soft sigh, loathing the idea of having to get up and continue onward with the day, when paradise was sitting right beside him. “Rapier Frostfur,” he concluded, allowing his thoughts to shift back to the swarthy woman who had raised him. She had been a fierce warrior – and he wondered for a stolen moment what she would think of his life and where it had taken him.
 
“You don’t talk much about your family or where you came from,” he spoke gently, shifting the subject from him to her. Bazi, despite being closer to her now more than ever, remained a shrouded mystery to him.