Wheeling Gull Isle solitude

The way her eyes pressed shut made him worry that he’d touched a nerve. If he had, Heda still indulged him. Caracal made sure to listen closely as she explained what had happened. He paid no attention whatsoever to where she was leading him as she spoke.

But then she concluded on the word “free” and he realized they were at the crest of the hill. Caracal had seen many things in his travels, including some pretty awesome views. But he had never seen anything quite this incredible. He actually gasped.

Damn, wifey, good for you, he thought to say after taking a moment to goggle with his one good eye.

Using that term made him suddenly think about the glances exchanged between Heda and Bartholomew. If the man had helped her so much, perhaps there was something between them. Caracal felt a little possessive in the friendliest possible way, though he would never want to get in the way of Heda’s hard-won happiness.

Oh, I can stop calling you that, especially if—are you and Bartholomew a thing? I kind of got a vibe.