“I—I know,” she warbles. “B-but I needed to fit my mom’s sewing table in the back of a car with me, and I was trying t-to—” Pain creases her forehead. “—surprise Bast. Get Asher’s approval. Make you…” I scent-mark her cheek with my own, murmuring against her temple. “Make me…?” “Proud,” she croaks, almost too quiet to hear. Fuck. Her heat’s about to start, and all she wanted was our approval. Our… love. She snuck out to surprise us, not to leave us behind.
