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Summary
"How long?" Mydei asks. "Deliverer. How long?"
Now, Phainon's head snaps up. His lip curls, baring his teeth. "How long what?" he snarls. "How long since my rut started? How long will it last? Just what are you trying to ask, Mydeimos? How long since I've imprinted on you like some kind of—"
"Are you ashamed of it, then?" Mydei cuts him off, struggling to keep his scent from swelling. "Do you find your affections unnatural or repulsive? Or have I not done enough to prove myself to you as a worthy mate?"
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Phainon goes into an early rut on a mission. Some things come to light. Mydei takes care of him.
