Qeya River longing sun

she watched veksar go, silent, listening. her ears flicked, catching sun eater’s voice, the weight of his words settling deep in her chest. she had never been ashamed before—not truly. not in the way that made her tail tuck, in the way that made her throat feel tight.
she had always been defiant, unyielding. but this man—this man had given her safety, a place to rest her head without fear. he had given her a future.
i hear you, she murmured, voice quieter than it had ever been before him. it was not submission in the way she had once understood it. it was something else. a need to please, to ease his worry, even when she ached for the wildness that still burned in her veins.
her belly had been full when she had slain men before. she had danced between blade and blood, and she had survived. but now, the weight she carried was not just her own.
she inhaled, slow and steady, nodding once. i will be more careful, she promised, though the words felt foreign on her tongue. her freedoms—how she longed for them! but she longed for him, too. for you. for them.
her gaze lifted, searching his face. but i will not be weak. a vow. a quiet defiance, even in her concession. not even now.