𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 | 𝟏𝟖+

xviii. lightning bugs.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍, the sun glistening in golden rays. She doesn't want to admit that she had the best sleep of her life in Morrow's presence, but gods, she feels rejuvenated. She only woke up sparsely in the night due to Morrow's constant need to roll on top of her. He slept even more like a rock, soft growling snores, almost inaudible singing near her ear.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Somewhere betwixt blue hour and daylight, he disappeared from her embrace. A small fraction of her thought that he might stay, but last night taught her that Morrow will never be domesticated. He'll forfeit his life for his pack at the expense of his own happiness. Whatever occurs between them from now on will never be a fulfilled matebond. Her heart itches, irritated that it might never have the other half wholly.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen stands from the bed, stretching her limbs and studying the chaos of the room. Torn shreds of her gown scatter across the floor, as well as some of Morrow's articles of clothing. She tiptoes over to his shirt, dressing herself so she's no longer stark naked. On her petite figure, it's large over her frame and gangly limbs. The parlor chair remains in the centre of the room, but to her surprise, his violin finds its way back to the leather case, the instrument clasped shut and safely tucked away from the room's debris.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She reaches down the mind-link, expecting to meet the barricade she's become familiar with. Instead, there's a gentle caress of Morrow's aura against her creature, a brush of calloused-padded fingers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Is that what you're choosing to wear?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She startles at the sound of his brooding voice. Morrow leans with his shoulder against the doorframe of the balcony, returning from flying god knows where. He's redressed in fresh clothes, loose fabrics that drape over toned pectorals and daggerish scars. His charcoal hair remains wild like the wolf inside of him, windswept from his morning flight. Not a hint of emotion crosses his sharp, stone features.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Would you rather me be naked?" Elowen huffs, ignoring his curious gaze. His eyes track her as she collects the shredded materials of her dress.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"If you're going to offer it, then yes."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen stops as her cheeks blush over. Did Morrow Killian, alpha of Tabrien, just tease her?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She picks up the last remnants of her skirt before marching over to the door leading to her adjoined room. Last night keeps replaying in her mind, but she has to come to terms that entwining with Morrow will only happen once. If it happens again, he still won't truly mate with her, but use her as his little plaything.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He must be reading her thoughts through the mind-link when he grunts obnoxiously. "You want to be a toy for me now?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"No... and get out of my head!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Can't. I've already set up camp in there."