The nomad is restless then, that longed-for intimacy of closeness taunting him. She must have sensed something, reading his temper without a single word more to be spoken, because then she is to him, melding them together in suspense that does not seek quick fulfillment, but prolongation.

A low growl rumbles in his throat, her touch searing the edge of his shoulder. He reaches for her in turn, taking a calloused paw beneath her own; the one that had before maintained her hesitancy. Slowly dark lips lower to run a row of kisses up the silver-blonde arm, all the while probing Yuè’s nacre gaze, undecided of what he desires to see more: her lust, or revulsion.