Moonsong Glacier she’s long gone with her red shoes on

Lotte seemed to fold in on herself, craning her neck at an exaggerated angle to press her crown into her brother’s breast. “I was so afraid!” she nearly wailed — it was on the tip of her tongue now that she didn’t need to be strong and capable — but she ground her back molars together to keep it locked down. Swallowing painfully around the thick lump in her throat, she said nothing for a prolonged moment. Then, thinking of the child who had accosted her in the vale, “So I have been told,” she muttered dryly in response to the comment about her odor, but a smile curved the corners of her lips nonetheless.

“I am sorry about Saena,” the soot-stockinged rogue murmured sincerely, preening lovingly at the little cream star that adorned her kaksonen’s broad chest, “but happy to hear about your new pack.” She paused at his closing statement, drawing back to look up at him with hope glittering quite clearly in her argent eyes. “Truly?” Selfishly, she wanted her littermate within pummeling range pretty much all the time — but she knew that their lives had taken them in different directions and that it was good for them both. Still, her need for Dagfinn had grown since the fire and would only continue to grow with her inevitably ballooning abdomen. “I do,” she answered his unspoken thought. I need you. She couldn’t steal him away from his new pack in good conscience, though, and tacked on, “Only if they can spare you, talvi sininen.”