Chapter 2The blizzard hadn’t let up. If anything, it had grown angrier with snow piling against the single small window in thick, relentless drifts that blocked out the night entirely. Inside, though, the small space had become a different world entirely. The fire roared high now, fed with fresh split logs Rowan had carried in from the lean-to stack earlier; flames moved upward in steady, hungry tongues, throwing heat in thick, rolling waves that filled every corner of the room. Their skin flushed deep pink from the warmth, sweat already beading along collarbones, the small of backs, the hollows of throats, the sensitive creases where thighs met hips. They’d cleaned up minimally—Nora wiping the thick ropes of his release from her stomach with the edge of a wool blanket, the fabric rough against her still-sensitive skin; Rowan licking his fingers clean of her taste while she watched, eyes dark and pupils blown wide, the sight making fres
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