The Heartwood [m] three shots 'cause the neighborhood gets scared

He stepped toward her, and Diantha did not flinch. She took in his scent. Strong, healthy, the musk of pack wolves thick. Would he attempt to reel her into his life? She did not know, and she was tired of caring. The itch was too strong, the want too endless, the constant "what if" finally wearing her down. Here was a man, ready and willing, and all she had to do was allow it.

And allow it she did, wordlessly pressing herself close to him, an urgent whine low in her throat. Her intention was clear, and she needed no words for such a base act.