Duskfire Glacier through the darkness

gjalla’s breath shudders, caught between pain and something deeper, something primal. the fire in his words feeds her own, rekindling what had dulled beneath the weight of her wounds. he speaks, and she believes.

her claws twitch against his fur, gripping, as if she did not already have his attention. “blackfell.” his name, nothing more, but it carries everything. a plea, a demand, a tether to keep him from slipping into rage.

her lips part, aching, but she does not falter. “do not let it take you from me.” the war, the vengeance, the fury. she knows him too well—knows how easily he can be lost to it.

her breath warms his throat as she buries her face there, drawing from him as much as he draws from her. “come back to me. i need you here,”