Shadow tendrils.
Slowly, they wound their way up her legs, brushing against her in a manner that felt far too deliberate.
Because of the bond they shared — even if theirs was currently sustained only through the oath — Mirabelle felt every sensation with heightened intensity.
Warmth pooled low in her stomach.
Dread immediately seized her. She pressed her legs together before anyone could smell her reaction.
Or before the tendrils became too adventurous.
She was sitting next to her mother!
The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread suddenly seemed far less important than the shadows currently trying to crawl up her legs.
In a panic, Mirabelle leaned across the table and held a piece of bread toward the panther.
Silas hummed in approval and accepted it from her fingers. A self-satisfied smile appeared on his otherwise stoic face.
"Good girl," he whispered soundlessly.
Slowly, the shadows retreated.
The tension in her shoulders eased immediately.
