Arrow Lake abbatia

His response to her ignited her—of course it did. He was a flame—had been, if she were honest, perhaps the day she had first saw him, the fateful time he had found her in the woods, fainted. Serendipitous, he had said, that they had met once more by the lair—a man who had needed a kind ear, and she had… she had been looking for affirmation, she could only surmise. That was all she ever seemed to do.

He held her tighter—closer. A kiss along her brow—chaste enough. The simmering of her own flesh coming to life beneath the next kiss—her ear.

And then undone, when his mouth fell to her throat—from her lips a soft sigh and sob mixed in one, because she knew in that moment it was wrong, and even then she was still a goner. She had never been kissed like this—she had tested waters with Reyson, surely, but the reserved man had held himself from her—as if he was afraid he would break her like a delicate china doll.

Germanicus, it felt, in this moment, would devour her.

Her leg hooked him closer, lifting his own limb to hook at her side, pulling him backward, softly to the ground, her mouth roving across him, exploring—because never before had she explored the hard planes of another in such a manner, and that fire in her belly—-it coiled. It lit aflame. It tore at her.

Then, when her eyes opened, they were to meet the dawn breaking the sky—and with it, the gaping jaws of a hissing cougar, intent upon a clean and easy swipe tot he preoccupied man she held above her.

She gave a strangled cry then—“Germanicus!” And  with as much might as such a lissome creature of her stature could, she shoved him from her, away from the feline’s jaws that snaked forward, and instead, her own side was gripped in its piercing jowls, and her shriek would echo across the lake.