Jade Fern Grove the seeds of love have taken hold and if we don't burn together, i'll burn alone

“No, you’re not,” she insists, eyes narrowing to try and see through him. The ache in her chest has not lessoned any even as she stands before him, ready to turn tail and leave. She had not run from the scene she’d witnessed, as one might have in her place, but there had been something holding her back. She wanted to see the look on his face and now that she has, she’d regret not putting more distance between them. His desperation hooks into her chest and pulls her in. How can you say we are?

As every other time before, she wants to scoop up beneath his nose and rest in his chest, feeling the comfort it has always bring her. It probably still smells like her and she’s terrified for a deeper breath. The remnants of her heat are still there, whether in her mind or still on his pelt, but it causes arise in bile from her stomach. She no longer wants to see the look on his face but she can’t help but spill more words while she’s frozen in place: “you can’t have everything, Grayday; you can’t have her and me.”