Firefly Glen [BWH] névoa ‹‹

margarida stilled. the boy’s words tumbled out like loose stones down a cliffside, and though she did not understand every shape of their grief, she felt the shift— the way tvar’s breath changed, the way silence thickened around the edges of his frame.

her gaze dipped, soft and unsure, as if she had stepped somewhere sacred without meaning to.

your wife? the question left her before she could catch it, gentle as a petal but heavy as iron once it fell between them.

heat rose beneath her pale cheeks. insensata, she scolded herself, eyes lowering to the torn grass at her paws. of course he had a mate—how foolish to sit so near, to welcome his warmth, even if it had only been kindness.

she drew a quiet breath, brine and magnolia clinging to her ribs as she began to rise— i did not mean to—