Noctisardor Bypass Whenever all my friends ask, all I say is

Anselm wrestled with what to do. His heart was flush with sudden fury to be the last to know Etienne had returned. Or was this a temporary thing — and if so, why? Ava was gone, the pups were old enough now that there was no need for nannies. Why was he here, and more specifically, in the garden?

Anger’s great force crushed his tongue like a wave, weighing it down against the sharp edges of his jaws. Anselm stared at Etienne for several beats, his face growing darker with each passing second. 

Etienne looked healthier. His fur had luster to it and his topline filled in. Sapphique must agree with him - something that inspired a thorny emotion in Anselm. 

Just as he thought his anger might well into a vicious tide and strike down on Etienne, his fury broke and was replaced by a far more crippling emotion. 

Anselm said nothing. He hoped the hardness of his expression communicated enough. Without another word, Anselm stalked back the way he came with his fur still quills along his spine.