Lion Head Mesa seventeenth

to detain her! she wanted to balk, to laugh. instead she breathed in the desert scent of senmut. the holy scents that clung to him from rituals.

qiao might have a say in what punishment is, for she bears a great mark now, hem. her voice was soft against his throat. i am inclined to hear her words on a price.

but she reached for him delicately now.

i think she will be good to be kept close still.