Nova Peak If you must mourn, my love, mourn with the moon and the stars up above

Wylla made a thoughtful sound in her throat, but didn’t say anything more on the subject of Phaedra’s question. It might be for the best if she had only one important question, because that implied it was a weighty one, and Wylla wasn’t sure how ready she was for those. There were a hundred things her daughter could want to know about. All of them were complicated.

She parted her lips to say what she’d really meant to ask, but then spluttered when Phaedra filled in the blanks for her. Heat crept rapidly over the sharp lines of her cheeks, flushing full across her muzzle. If not for her fur, she’d be bright red. Hell no, she retorted. Not in a million years would she ever speak to Mahler in such a way.

Besides, everyone knows he’s turned on by doms, calling him daddy would just make him flaccid.

I wanted to know how I would tell you, she emphasized with a slow, overly deliberate exhale, that I love you.