Ruger had never thought a situation full of fear, self-doubt and painful memories would have turned into such a break-through, warming moment. The painted stallion enjoyed the feel of her skin beneath his touch as he was able to draw his lips across her blue flesh, the scent of her still filling his nose. It was only as he awaited her answer that he held his breath, awaiting her to reject him.
But she did not.
Ruger had thought he had misheard her; his ears flicking with uncertainty for a brief moment before it sank in she had agreed. His heart hammered quickly in his chest filled with anxiety and excitement before she mentioned Requiem and a dead weight suddenly sank into the pit of his stomach. The painted stallion was once again reminded of his loss to the younger brute. In Ruger’s experience, talking never got very far in the efforts of mares and stallions. Typically, a stallion was too proud, or tried to hoard the most mares for breeding season.
“Okay.” Ruger agreed, Evanescence could try to talk to Requiem first. But if that failed, Ruger would make his own efforts to get her back.