Jade Fern Grove You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I

You made it so, said Wylla, seizing her own hurt, no longer stifled under layer on layer of ice and dismay. She would have loved to have this argument with him—she had begged him to leave with her, and he had strung her along only to say he could not, and then when she was out of sight he had gone and done what he said could not be done! She would have loved to tear him apart strip by strip until he bled out and died in the snow, and her lip lifted over her teeth, and a muscle twitched in her shoulder. For half a second, she nearly lunged for him.

But then she would be close. Then he would know she was on the cusp of her season, and he would try to manipulate her and turn her into another of his brood mares, and then he would steal those children, because in his eyes, they made wonderful children, but she was worth nothing.

I told you exactly where I was, she snarled, and decided then and there that she would not mention that Greymoor Watch had fallen apart and that they had gone down the coast. It gave her an upper edge to maintain that she had not been secretive about her location, even if that was no longer true. She had begged him to come there with her, for god's sake! And it burned and chafed even more that he had apparently heard nothing that day, and sought to cover up his misdeeds with lies.

I don't give a fuck if you're here every time I visit or not, she growled, because you're going to stay away from me, and you will not dare to intrude upon my meetings with them, or so help me god, I'll fucking end you myself.