Qeya River draw a line in the sand

blackfell scoffs. admit it, woman, you missed me. his tone is dry, grating, and his crimson eyes cut to her, gauging her reaction. it’s as bitter as he’d expected, and it pulls the faintest curl to his lip—satisfaction etched in the hard lines of his face.

his pace stays in step with hers as they follow the river, their steps marking the edge of saatsine’s territory. her quip about ice diver pulls an impish smile from him, his teeth flashing briefly before the sound of a soft tsk leaves his mouth. mm, definitely don’t want her teeth in my ass.

he shakes his head slightly, the memory of the war chief’s sharp stare lingering. not a wolf to fuck with, he figured, though he’d never admit she unsettled him.

a heavy sigh escapes him as his gaze turns to the qeya river, the winding flow catching the light. his head tilts faintly, his eyes tracing the way the snow met the banks, the frost clinging to the edges of the water like lace.

can’t deny it’s pretty here,