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Summary
“Y’er his Witcher,” The stranger mouths, shifting away from whoever had shoved him away, voice filled with fear, making Jaskier still and, unexpectedly, the spend and blood sliding down his thigh become the least of his problems.
The grip of the newcomer is firm and strong on Jaskier’s neck, keeping him in place with just one solid hand – four fingers are tight at the base, while the thumb is pushing down in the curve at Jaskier’s nape. Then, a growl, right behind the bard's head, low and feral, like the roar of a wolf.
(Part II of my Series 'About Love and Devotion', Jaskier POV.)
Series
- Part 2 of About Love and Devotion.