Swiftcurrent Creek frog

If Akavir were a smart man, he would abstain indefinitely. There was nothing holy about the dark wolf who’s pale champagne eyes roved over the swell of the female’s hip—particularly when his thoughts lingered on a woman with sharp cerulean eyes that he could never have.

If the riverclan wolf had been ice, this one was fire.

His gaze drifted down to the injured limb—quietly studying—still not speaking. The Omega knew Arlette’s name—that indicated to him she had sought the medical attention he had asked of her.

He was still waiting for Arric or Mae to question him on why he had let a time bomb within their ranks.

He still didn't have an answer.