Swiftcurrent Creek preacher's daughter

A tipping point had been found—the nestle of her face at the crook of his jawline allowed him to tilt ever so slightly to her, her scent enveloping him once more. Her words—a tone she had never graced upon him yet, and he knows it means nothing more to her than the season they found themselves in—

—and the invitation she places before him as his eyes narrowing, the pinch of teeth as they graze his cheek.

He was pretty sure the last thing she wanted was for him to actually seek her out—she hadn’t said as much, but from their initial meeting and the words spoken of Mae, Akavir didn’t quite feel a desire for kids coming from the woman before him.

Wait the season out… It would be over soon.

Mae, however, was a douse of cold water to the entire situation. Affronted, it seemed, the girl’s sharp teeth found his forelimb, drawing a grunt from the man as he glanced down at the girl, a rumble of his displeasure given.

Before he could reprimand her—there were other ways to get his attention, weren’t there?—Wren was bidding them goodbye—his eyes lifting to catch the sway of her hips. Mouth dry, he chuffed quietly, tearing his gaze away to look at his daughter. “Let’s go for a swim at the creek, yeah?”