If I hold up hell, will you take the blame?
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
Put the devil’s tongue on my middle name
It's difficult at times for Maeve to wrap her head around the things that Sunjata went through with Safrin. That feeling of being trapped. The Nightshade hasn't had the same experience with the herald that he has, but then again, no one else was vying for her attention the way that Nate had stolen Sunjata's. Gods, her current lover was a follower of her goddess, as well. There was nothing for Safrin to be unhappy with. Not when Maeve was as utterly devoted as she could be. Not when she'd done all that had been asked of her thus far without complaint.
Her curiosity remains bright in her eyes, brow arched as he leans into her space, that same scent permeating the air. It's hard to concentrate, flashes of the last couple of weeks with Harper flitting through her head, making her pulse race as she realizes that the scent she's smelling belongs to the councilman, but somehow clings to Sunjata's skin.
Only when he begins to explain does she manage to focus, "What made you decided that they couldn't leave? Can they still be contacted there?" Maeve asks, head cocking to the side, causing her curls to shift and fall over her shoulder as her brows pinch together in thought.
Her curiosity remains bright in her eyes, brow arched as he leans into her space, that same scent permeating the air. It's hard to concentrate, flashes of the last couple of weeks with Harper flitting through her head, making her pulse race as she realizes that the scent she's smelling belongs to the councilman, but somehow clings to Sunjata's skin.
Only when he begins to explain does she manage to focus, "What made you decided that they couldn't leave? Can they still be contacted there?" Maeve asks, head cocking to the side, causing her curls to shift and fall over her shoulder as her brows pinch together in thought.
Maeve
