📚 From Thursday:
The scent shimmering off Phin’s skin was akin to inhaling flame. As intoxicating as it was life-giving. Jake’s nostrils flared in recognition of a truth he could no longer deny. Jack had never tried, of course, a fact Jake had been hell-bent on blanking. Intent on blissful ignorance. Jackals mate for life. Plural. Phin smelled of home and hearth, of flickering warmth on a bitter winter night. It was far too late now. It had been from the very first.