The smile he shared with her was somewhat sad. Zevulun’s blue eyes rested lightly on the dark brindle mare and despite not wanting to, he found himself noting a few physical similarities between her and Riesling. It only made his heart sink more, so he pulled his gaze away and looked off across the Prairie grasses. He knew he could go back and forth and around and around with himself on whether allowing her and her children to remain was the correct thing to do, but he decided to let it be what it was instead. Riesling was never going to step into the Prairie again, after all.

When would he find it in himself to return to the Badlands? Could he still consider himself allied with Rafe? More questions without answers. Zevulun blew a breath and nodded quietly to himself.

“I should let you watch over Vervain,” he said softly to excuse himself. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew he needed to. The longer they shared this quiet space between them, the more he sank into all the sorrow he had been feeling, the harder it was to deny himself the want to draw closer to her. He had done everything else wrong by Riesling, the least he could do was not cuddle up to the mare she loathed just a couple short weeks after she’d decided to stay gone.

So, Zevulun did something he normally never did and had almost never been known to do.

He denied his heart what it wanted.

“If you need me,” he said as he pulled his head up and turned, pointing his body away from her (which even that felt strangely wrong, despite him knowing it was the right thing to do), and glancing back her way, “Well, I’ll be around.” He offered with a smile, and this one was kinder and softer, the sadness only remaining in his eyes rather than elsewhere across his expression. The pale stallion lingered only a moment more before he finally forced himself to walk, trying not to think about how every step away from her felt wrong, even when he knew it was right.