Ravensblood Forest the one minute. the soldier's minute

There was no temptation for Lotte in the revealed hollow of Arturo’s throat. She did not wish to silence him by taking his life — quite the opposite, in fact. In that moment, as caught and bewildered and infatuated as her twin had been in the embrace of an older wolf, she inanely believed she’d have offered her life merely to hear the Ceannasach call her name — her true name! — and claim ownership of her person. She quivered, her songbird heart beating against the bars of its cage in a frenzy as a burning kiss was pressed to the warm curve of her throat. “Arturo,” she breathed, remembering belatedly the words he had spoken. “Thank you for believing me — for seeing me.” Her moonglow eyes readily met his fiery ones. Though by removing her masks she had already broken her word to the former leader of Donnelaith, Lotte found that she wished to protect his honor all the same. It would have been easy for her to blame her falsehood on her mission, but that would not have been fair to either Constantine or Arturo. “You asked me a question. To answer it, no,” she said honestly, “but also yes.” She pushed her broad skull blindly against the coywolf, butting him like an insistent cat, openly seeking his nearness. Her voice was muffled against the fur of his chest as she replied.

“I was not afraid until after,” she confessed. “When I was young, first learning the ways of the muoto vaihtaja, I became easily lost. I could not separate myself from my roles — when Kaniini feared, I feared; when Kitku rejoiced, I rejoiced.” She spoke with considerable slowness, weighing the honesty of every word. “My kaksonen, Dagfinn, could always find me.” A note of sorrow crept into her tone; she missed her twin so much! “The wolves of Blackrock Depths have julma maine — ” she rubbed the bridge of her muzzle against the male’s collarbone, thinking “ — reputation for wickedness,” she amended finally. “I wanted to be ready, so Kitku reared her head; yet when I met you, Chusi, and Doe, it was I who was bewitched, and I had already told the lie. Chusi calls me isosisko — older sister — out of fondness, but Doe and her Szymon must yet be told the truth.” Her small, triangular ears drooped as she drew back to look Arturo in the eyes. He was the first one she had revealed herself fully to, and although his reception had been kind, consternation yet lingered that the small, butterfly-like woman and her husband would not accept her so. “I am afraid now,” she murmured, crestfallen, “because I have not made a mistake such as this before.”