Grouse Thicket As a Burning Fire Shut up in My Bones

The heady scent of Asherah's heat was deep, and Ragna feared falling headlong into it, because surely she would drown. Yet before she could center herself, Asherah drew near. Their foreheads pressed together, and Ragna looked into Asherah's eyes and saw only truth and want. The fire of her passion flickered dangerously, and suddenly Ragna plunged into the depth of it. The first breath she took after they parted shuddered with want, and had she less control over her body, she might have followed the contact as though she was tethered to her pack mate.

Yet Asherah merely moved to Ragna's side. The brush of fur on fur was electric. The shieldmaiden moved closer, drawn not by intention but by her body's own accord. Despite Asherah's assurances, Ragna felt fiercely protective of her. Flaris' velvet words seemed cloyingly sweet and glaringly false. He was all smoothness and incredibly suave. Ragna hooked her neck over Asherah's, resting her head heavily on the woman's shoulder. This she did with an incredibly smug glance in Flaris' direction. The two women shared something, they already had established intimacy. He was merely an invader in a tender moment.

We have met, Ragna said simply, slightly annoyed. Why was he still here? I don't know what you mean, she smells as she always has, she lied. It would take a fool to miss the scent, the air around them was redolent with pheromones. But she wanted him gone. She wanted Asherah to herself, though to what purpose even Ragna could not say.