Lion Head Mesa scorpion

The bustle of activity grew louder as the two wolves approached the common areas. Some amount of relief met the dark wolf as he sighted the others, the wolves of Akashingo.

When the Pharaoh’s mouth touched the hairs of his ear, Crowfeather stopped and stood rigidly. A breath had caught in his throat. Even the length of his limbs quivered at the suggestion that had been so privately made by the ruler. It seemed such a simple thing. All he had to do was to draw Germanicus into his bedchamber and tell him that he was desired. Why would the older man deny him?

It was with a cold stone in the pit of his belly that Crowfeather realized, he did not wish to know the reasons Germanicus might turn him away. The very thought of watching that man’s gaze look on him with displeasure was suffocating.

Crowfeather turned to thank Pharaoh, but the shadow stood alone. The sound of merrymaking filled the air around him.