Hideaway Strath blueblood

the tension did not dissipate, it only deepened. teya felt herself sudden thrum with a harshly felt nausea, one that welled into her throat and bittered her tongue. the taste of metallic terror as yet another wolf arrived.
where nyra was a storm, this one was a pillar of marble, draped around muscular curves, the powerful grace of the woman among the ravens. she was no more warm than that, smoothly gliding to kynareth's side, and —
the mouth of the beast, yawning open to display high mountains of teeth.
nyra, speaking, and teya could not help but to see the exchange of hellflame stare into the sunset fire of the second woman's own;
and then kynareth speaking, and she knew it, she knew it in the way that he kept his eyes trained upon his — his wife?
who else commanded him so? not her, stumbling into this den of crocodiles.
teya chilled from nose to tailtip, cloistering herself long enough to nod gently at kynareth's explanation, belated wave of her tail;
she needed to run