Duskfire Glacier through the darkness

"never," she whispered, breath warm against his neck. "there is nothing to forgive."

she let herself sink into him, drinking in the heat of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breath. she was alive. he was alive. they were alive. and that was enough. 

"we will have our revenge," her words are quiet but sure, burning low like embers in the dark. "that one-eyed cur does not know what he has brought upon himself. his fate was sealed the moment he came to me."

her fingers curled tighter into his fur, a vow written in touch, in the stubborn thrum of her pulse. a huff of amusement draws from her memory as she recalls the fight—funny now, even if it wasn’t before. "i almost pushed him off a cliff." would have, if he did not have such a grip on her at the time.