Sawtooth Spire for the debt i owe, gotta sell my soul

The relief she felt at his familiar face was incomparable to anything she had ever felt. Even with the thought she might not make it past this point, that the rugged wolf above her was there to try—or at least to witness—was enough. 

The rest remained almost a blur. The lounge of desperation, the dark protectors own attempts left the tearing of flesh on both ends during their struggle to connect, but finally, she was safe in the arms of the broad male, and as she was enveloped in his warmth and finally upon the surface once more, she allowed a sob of relief to escape her, burying her face to his chest and nape, allowing the rawness of her fear teveal itself to him in those very vulnerable moments. 

Everything else continued as a blur as he assisted her home. Fever and exhaustion won over, and the pale dove remembered barely a trace of her travel back home.