Owen chewed the meat as if chewing wax, staring at Rowan's lonely back, not knowing how to share this burden.
Even though Rowan didn't say it, Owen didn't dare get too close tonight; his own rut was becoming increasingly violent due to the influence of Rowan's leaking pheromones. A delicious, deadly meal was laid out before a starving beast, and everything relied on the beast's shred of remaining conscience to suppress its predatory instincts.
The only difference between a wild beast and a beastman lay in this point: they would not easily let lust rob them of their reason; they knew how to protect the one they loved.
But there would also be times of betrayal and submission to lust if the temptation was too great.
Owen didn't know why Rowan suddenly fell ill, but Owen himself was also sick in no light measure.
Relying on the meager soothing and limited physical contact from the other person, Owen couldn't hold on for much longer.
