Lion Head Mesa Primrose

How tightly she held him; leaving no spaces between them. She would’ve had to be ripped away.

Neith bared her brother’s grief. Their tears fused, and when his token of troth was presented beneath the mooneye it was as real to her as any taken before the witness of Gods.

“We shall never be parted,” her voice shook with its own true part, and fiercely she meant it. He would not abandon her as Mother and Father had. Not as Den had opened within her a great empty chasm. Her face withdrew only to see how his eyes illuminated beneath the milk light. She pressed a kiss to his warm, damp cheek.

“Khaem, I am ready to know.”