Hideaway Strath blueblood

one. two. she focused everything on her breath as the pallid wife swung the dragonfire stare upon her. and nyra scorched the other side of her face.
there was nothing the brindled man might do or say that would remove the horrible dart of scrutiny that unraveled her thread by thread. more than dangerous; harpies, and kynareth himself beneath their claw, and willingly! 
"no other terms," teya spoke out, voice steadying the more she kept her eyes from kynareth. "we negotiate. your husband —" — oh to keep the fucking steel from her own voice was a wonder! "— at first he want information. that brecheliant be spy in return for fighters. i say we not fighters. we not start wars."
jealousy began to spread its green wings in the middle of her explanation; she faltered, and paused, but recovered without an eyeblink.
what was she next to this woman?
had she only been a plaything? while he with an entire wife? 
teya told herself that this had not been confirmed, and yet it had been in her heart;
she was angered, galled, sickened, fearful —
"i say we allied with many packs. know many things. i ask no questions, we heal, and we not spy. remain neutral."
pride in her pack and their principles was beginning to comfort teya, and she stood somewhat taller, still dutifully building a wall of incensed stone between she and kynareth's gaze.