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Yakuti was free.
So she ran. She ran, and ran, and ran until her breath burned in her lungs and her eyes watered.
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He'd been watching Yakuti's den like a hawk. If he'd had Moska, he'd have been able to send the bird in to the den just to take a quick glance around before making his escape - but he did not have Moska, and so he could not.
When the dark, rich-pelted lioness made her exit, Bruten followed. When she burst into a run, Bruten did so, too - and when he finally caught up to her, he could not speak for lack of breath.
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Yakuti was shocked to see him; she hadn't thought she'd been followed, but she should have known. In truth, she was shocked that he hadn't strong armed his way into her mother's den. Then again, he wouldn't dare. The High Priestess had secluded herself on behalf of her daughter, or so the rumors said - which was fine with Yakuti, as it provided a buffer between herself and Bruten.
That buffer was gone.
Her breath was still coming in harsh gasps, but the burn felt good.
"I was going to come to see you," she lied smoothly, forcing a smile upon her face.
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"I think you're lying, little Yakuti," Bruten hissed with barely suppressed anger. "I am not a fool. I am not an idiot."
He wanted to hit her, he wanted to hit her and force her to answer all of his questions with nothing but truths. He refrained.
For now.
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"What have you heard, Bruten?"
She didn't know if she'd like the answer, and Yakuti did not know if lying would help to tame the beast. She could only go along with Bruten's cues, and deal with whatever fallout happened as best she could. In all honesty, she did not know if she cared that Brynja might be angry with her if she ended up telling Bruten the truth.
Yakuti would not put her own life at risk. Not any longer.
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He moved closer, close enough that he could smell the scent of cubs on her. It enraged him further. She was his. He had approached her, spoken with her on the matter, and then she'd done this to him.
Oh, he wanted to spill her blood for shaming him this way.
"So tell me, Yakuti." His voice was nothing more than a serpentine hiss. "Tell me, what is the truth? Do not lie to me, little Yakuti. I cannot tell you how much I long to make you hurt."
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"I did not bear cubs," Yakuti admitted softly, "and I did not take another, Bruten." Her voice deepened, and she moved just a little closer. If he would not be calmed by her words, all the better. Perhaps she should have lied, just to test the boundaries of his restraint.
The thought brought a slight smile to her face.
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"You are playing a game that you will lose, little Yakuti," Bruten snarled, inhaling once more. He was not sure what she was doing, but it thrilled him. These were not the actions of a new mother; he had little doubt that she had spoken the truth.
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The rusty taste of his blood was sharp on her tongue, and she half-expected him to strike her. When he did not, she pulled away and licked her lips. Her eyes were dark and inviting in a twisted sort of way, and Yakuti turned to move further away from the pride and any prying eyes that might glance their way.
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When she broke away from him, Bruten followed, his gaze intent on the sway of her tail.
He would see where the afternoon would lead them. He would taste her blood just as she had tasted his, too.