Sunset Valley What the future says,

morwenna stands still for a moment as he presses against her, feeling the weight of his breath on her skin, the way his touch reaches beneath the surface of her resolve. there is no denying the pull between them, the fire that ignites whenever their bodies are close. but she is no fool, and neither is he.
her hands move to his chest, firm but slow, holding him just enough to keep the world from spinning too fast. she can feel the thrum of his heart beneath her palm, and her own quickens in response.
but as much as her body yearns for him, her mind will not let it go further.
you are still wed, she murmurs, her voice quiet but steady, breaking the tension that threatens to drown them both. she can feel the heat of his lips on her neck, but she knows the cost of this indulgence—of this escape from the weight of their responsibilities.
gjalla... she adds, her words cool against the fever of the moment. her eyes lock with his, daring him to look away. you must figure this out, blackfell. you...we owe her that much.
she leans in, pressing a slow kiss to his lips, tasting him for what might be the last time. the moment hangs between them, a dance of passion and restraint, before she gently pulls back, her breath shallow.
we cannot do this, she whispers, the truth hanging heavy. not yet.