The Sentinels [m]y love is a lifetaker

The sound of a familiar voice drew her from the haze of near-panic in which she had existed for hours. Marina sucked in a sharp breath, blinking rapidly as every ounce of awareness and emotion flooded back to the forefront of her thoughts. Her throat tightened with a sickly, gnawing feeling; he deserves better than this.

How long had she spent hiding herself away? Marina crept from her den with ears slicked back guiltily, dark eyes finding Dutch's paws first. There was something grounding about the sight of them, slightly flecked with sand and dirt from his patrols. His scent was all around them. Warmth bloomed faintly in her chest, then flared into something hot and desperate. Not lust; a softer creature than that, grasping, altogether more intimate.

She crawled forward to nuzzle against his paws, to clean the dirt from them with tender swipes of her tongue. She rubbed her cheeks against them, marveling at the velvety softness of the fur there. The warm scent of him. Safe. Dutch, she breathed against his wrists, closing her eyes. I'm safe here.