Duskfire Glacier marrok

his breath hitched—just once—before he steadied it, chest rising beneath the press of her cold nose. for all his strength, all his years, he felt undone by her. the weight of her words settled like snowfall on his heart.
his muzzle dipped, brushing against her crown, lingering there as though he might commit the scent of her—fresh, wild, untouched—to memory.
i promise you, his voice was low, roughened by restraint, but certain. we will mate. you are not wasting your time, lousine. not with me.
a pause, his throat tightening.
i will give you everything. i swear it.