Moonstone Quarry Won’t you show me how to dance forever

his breath caught.
not for her kiss—though it melted him—but for the truth in her words, the quiet storm of them, the way she whispered and made the world feel as though it had always been meant to end here. with them. with this.
solharr’s eyes closed as their brows met, his large frame leaning in like stone might lean to flame, as though to be scorched by her would be a holy thing. the cold man of the north—made flesh by her heat.
then take it, he murmured, voice hoarse, low, heavy with promise. you have all of it. my breath. my name. my worship. it belongs to you.
his paw lifted to cradle her jaw, rough and warm against her softness. his paw pad brushed just beneath her eye, my flower. my queen.
he did not need the gods. he had her.
and in this moment, solharr was no longer a chieftain or warrior. he was only hers—rooted in her gravity, lit by her spark, a man rebuilt by the woman who danced with the sun.