What is dead may never truly die

Walk | Talk | Think

The feel of him settling over her was more than enough to get her heart racing, even more so because he was supposed to be gone and their time together was supposed to have been at an end. But here he was, thrilling her with each kiss, each gentle and stirring nip, that he placed against her neck, drawing her along on this slow rise without any sense of urgency or rush. Tahlia might have felt desperate to hold him close, to stay in this moment for as long as she could, mindful that it was all a dream, an illusion that might shatter at any second, but Bane acted as if they had all the time in the world. And it was all the more breathtaking for it.

She could not remember feeling as satisfied as she did once they had reached their end, could not recall a time during their waking lives when their stolen moments together had seemed to matter as much. This was a union more special, more precious, because of the impossibility of it, the unbelievable circumstances that should not have allowed such an act to be possible. The russet and black wolf was more than breathless; amazed, dazzled, struggling to regain her senses as she descended from the high, she nearly missed Bane's initial inquiry, had to think a moment to find the answer. He relaxed, easing upon her, and her legs weakly trailed along his sides, her tongue sneaking out to rasp softly against his neck when he prompted her with further questions. Right. She needed to answer him.

Absently, still weakly, her paws played against his sides, her head nuzzling against his as she answered him in a tone that was somewhat dreamy in quality. "One," she murmured, "Just one." But even as she tried to envision him, the image was fuzzy, a lack of attention or care leaving her with only a partial picture of what the child was like. And his name...she had had no part in that either. What was it Anais called him? A quick flutter of anxiety reared up within her, causing her brow to furrow worriedly over her dark golden eyes, realization of her state in the waking world slowly settling in and becoming known to her for the first time in months. "I..." How did she even begin to explain that? How could it possibly be true? She had always been so conscientious of her children, of herself, and yet what she remembered, or at least what she saw now in retrospect, was something, someone, entirely different. It can't be true...