Duskfire Glacier [m] born with other names

faust watched as she pulled away, her body slipping from his as if the warmth between them had never been. he did not reach for her, did not call her back—he simply let her go. it was not his place to keep her.
his gaze was steady, unwavering, as she turned over her shoulder, questioning him. would he kill for her?
his jaw set, the muscle there tensing as he considered the weight of the words. she did not believe him. perhaps she was right not to. he had known her for mere days, shared only fleeting moments of passion and instinct. and yet, she had come to his doorstep, had sought him out, had given herself to him with the same wild hunger that now pushed her away.
he would kill for his women. that much was true. he would die for darukaal, for those who called this land home. but she was different—an outsider, a storm passing through.
he exhaled slowly, nodding once, accepting what she had chosen.
my women to protect, he said again, voice rough, the edges of it frayed. you should stay, here, where it is safe, but i cannot force you.
it was not cruel, nor dismissive. it was simply fact. she was free to go, as she had always been. he had no chains for her, no collar to force around her throat.
and so he watched her leave, the tension in his shoulders never fully easing, his eyes dark with something unspoken.