Jade Fern Grove chafa

"then it will have to be a mistake, akavir." but her voice trembled as it filled the space, as she watched him resign himself; she felt the tearing between them as horribly as she might have felt, tooth to flesh; "to clarify, akavir, you came to tell me germanicus had told you — the things i did not, and the next thing i knew you were with eshe. as if i was — dirty to you. filthied. i came because in all those names you mentioned, you did not say a friend. a companion." arric and arlette would have children. the pack would move forward. akavir; he trapped himself. she wanted him to marry, even if it was some foolish lovesick girl, anything, anything to enrapture him from her. from them. anything to focus his heart upon pursuits which did not hurt them. the children moved, and she thought of wren, and her eyes misted with tears — "i came because i wanted — i wanted to find a way to be close to you. i came in selfishness," and the watery glassblue eyes found his with a fierce open look. let there be no secrets. if she did not leave now, she would fall into his arms, and she began to fidget, to move toward the drizzled doorway with great resistance winding each muscle. it would be the last time.