The Bracken Woods blood thorns [m]

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"we speak the same language. we share the same mates. we even hunt together. but the sharadoii and the lanzadoii are very different," cen murmured, ignoring the worry of red leaf for a moment to consider what she had said.

why would a woman accused of murder speak so openly of her husband's mortality if she were not planning anything? cen resisted the urge to cuff her, knowing then that she would see his trepidation, this shadow-woman he had brought over the glacier.

instead, beneath the water, he pulled her hips against his and breathed out against her throat. in the next motion, cen had drawn himself from the pool and urged red leaf out as well.

rolling briskly in the snow, cen led his wife back to their skins and drew her down among them. 

this time he was not so goaled in his wants; this time red leaf would find her husband more fixed upon her own reaction to him, her own sensations. there was more than one way to subdue her after all.

when he had taken his fill, the caribou hunter rose energetically. "how long will it take you to dry the rest of the meat?" cen grunted, stretching the relaxed, sated strength of his hard body. he wanted to be on their way to another camp. but he had asked red leaf this in sharadoii, testing if she would think before she spoke in response.