Jade Fern Grove hauntings

merrick's hiss caused the blackbird to startle, her gaze narrowing in response.

how could he take that tone with her? how could he accuse her of the problem, when it was his fault they were here? hurt pooled in astara's indigo gaze, dark in contrast to the burn of merrick's furious single eye: it bore into her like lanternfire.

he had humiliated her in front of his friends, his court, her packmates -- (did he truly think so little of her?)
he had slept with ikkalrok, producing two wretched shits that now suckled at her own breast -- (did he truly think so little of her?)
his unconstant, unloving dick had created a wedge between her children, hers -- (did he even fucking care?)

and now she must shoulder it all, wordless and subservient like she was some cow meant to bend to the yoke

but, astara was no mule. astara was a wolf -- a killer --

her tail curled above her haunches imperiously. if only she had known about the men merrick flounced around with -- it would have made so much sense -- but astara's tunnel-vision focus was flawed, and she missed her mark with astounding stupidity. her insecurity blinded her in the most ironic way that she could not see the forest for the trees, could not see that the absence of female scent on his pelt did not absolve him from the male scents that often littered his fur -- if only she knew!

astara's expression did not soften, even as merrick's voice softly trailed to an end. his outburst had only served to harden her heart, and now, smoke kindled darkly from under her glare as she thought of how arrogant he was -- how he wouldn't even fucking say sorry for fucking other women.