The mountain air bites, a raw, cold kiss against my fur, but it does little to cool the fire churning inside me.
Down there, nestled in the small clearing, Lior’s cabinglows with a soft, deceptive warmth. And on the porch, bathed in that golden light, stands her.
Tamsin.
Even from this distance, I feel the familiar tug, that invisible cord stretched taut between us. My silver gaze locks with hers. It’s uncanny, this connection.
Like she has eyes in the back of her head, or maybe it’s just… us. She knows I’m here. Always.
There’s a stillness in her posture, a quiet acceptance in the way she meets my stare, gold to silver. Neither of us moves, caught in this silent, invisible thread.
But the air around her… it’s thick with Lior's.
His scent, that familiar blend of leather and some
