Wheeling Gull Isle nemiyon

it was all so — absurd! in a way, wasn't it? heda grinned as caracal continued with his beautiful theatrics, though she could tell he was taken with the idea. "i'll be redhawk too," she amended, ears cupping forward as he spoke of the wheelers.
heda giggled helplessly with him, and then realized that the surname and subsequent discussion mattered far less than the instinct she had to press her body against that of his own, taken by the sun and sea and his laugh and the firm, loyal heartbeat she felt she could hear leaping in his chest.
"we could keep talking about it," mouth dry;
"later."
heda wanted to know what was happening to her, but was too giddy to seek answers to questions she had never asked. her eyes darkened with want now; pulse tripping.
"i'm your wife," she murmured huskily; disbelieving, believing, and this time she did wait for caracal to kiss her properly.