Moonsong Glacier And we won't let it in

Simbelmyne was warm like sunshine. He greeted her with an affectionate nuzzle, inwardly puzzling at the lack of pack scent on her pelt. Where had she been staying? This concern made the scent of her coupling a secondary note, albeit one that followed Alaric's name with several exclamation points. In this mire of emotion, he found himself unable to form anything but a whine of glad welcome and answered prayer.

She was safe, and she was happy. This was what was important.

The concept of First Rites was still puzzling to the panther. There had been a time, years ago now, when he had reveled in being the first man allowed into Auk's bed. Now that felt almost childish, for although it had certainly gotten the job done, he was sure the experience had been underwhelming for the sea queen's daughter. He was only glad that Simbelmyne had not gone to a young, inexperienced man for this thing.

Not that he knew anything about Alaric's level of experience — but Alaric was a fox. Of course he had experience.

"My mother likes to say: a woman should not have to regret the men she doesn't sleep with," he said to her, his voice warm. "You have done me no wrong, Simbelmyne. Especially if choosing me would mean we could not see each other again."

Then he wilted, just a little.

"It is the other way around, in fact," he said, an apology in his tone. "I meant to speak your name to other men on my hunt — but I did not. I will do this when I go out again, if it pleases you."