Morningside Cuesta ii. nine lives

She just listened.

Khoe sat in the darkness, ignoring the wails of her children and the kicking of her mate and just listened.

Addie, he cried out, and both times a ball the size of her patience swelled up in her throat. And yet still, Khoe just listened. She was angry, but only for a second. Then she was sad — plain and dull; there was no room for embellishments. But, when it all came to a close, she was just numb.

Khoe had never been a fool. She knew that Grayday belonged to someone else, no matter how much of him she was allowed to borrow. Still, she tried to convince herself that he did love her, and that when he gazed at her with that expectant look, he wasn't thinking of someone else. 

Not even Lavender's shriek was enough to bring her back to reality. It was the realization that Grayday had brought that pain to their daughter, and the protectiveness that came out of her. Grayday, she whispered, then Grayday, was half-growled a bit louder. Khoe sighed and managed to lift her head from where it rested against the floor of the den, then moved a step forward to grab Arushi and pull her into her forepaws. She hushed the wailing girl, using her tongue to gently groom the fur beneath her chin, then placing her back at her side to rest.