Deepwood Weald Both the slave and the empress

They moved together; he was large and imposing despite the low slink of his body, and she was narrowly built but quick enough to make up any difference.

He wondered if she knew these woods - if this was her home - but she still carried the salt of the sea beyond the aroma they now shared, not pine, not oak, not the burned masses peppered with green shoots.

Raimo was distracted. He wanted to see how she moved more than anything. He knew how she felt and how she made him feel, but that was limited to one angle. Raimo wanted more from her. To see her prowl like he prowled, strike at something, draw blood. To share a meal as well as a sleeping place, or a body.

He thought of all that they could do together. Then, spurred by the presence of wolves in the wood, something shot from the cover of darkness and the movement drew his eye. Instinct took over and he picked up his pace, lunging with each step.