Wee Hours

“It is, I asked you your past because I sought a logical reason for the feeling” he explained. She had dashed any thoughts that they might be blood, but that mattered to him less than most would expect. He had never loved one of his own blood before - namely because he had none of which to share such a feeling. Blood was unnecessary for love. A sister could be who he desired it to be, He was a ruler now, a Warlord, and very few could meet his strength. If he said it was so, who truly could contest it? That was the power of strength. He smirked at the thought, and knew Zee would berate him for it.

She extracted herself from his grip, and for the briefest moments he considered not allowing it. That would not get them off to the best start. With a sigh, he let her go, and the smaller wolf climbed away from him.

He was reluctant to have her leave, but could think of no reason for her to stay. She offered him one last time a concoction for sleep, and his heart beat a little faster. Zee wasn’t here tonight, he posed no risk to her. Still, he was weary about taking such herbs. He did not want to get trapped in his mind, nor did he want to be unable to rise if danger came. It went against everything he believed in, but damn he was desperate. Emotions he couldn’t describe flashed across his face, before he bit down on the fear wriggling like an infection in his heart. “...Perhaps” he said, unable to bring himself to say an absolute in either direction. Not cowardly(aka pigheaded) enough to say no, too much hesitation to say yes.