Sanshoku swallowed down a growl, although her eyes showed her emotions at the thought of someone harming her little bird. She was not one to play with another’s emotions, too much at least. She knew how delicate a heart could be, and it was the one thing she didn’t toy with; once she had it, she had it. There would be no throwing it away or chewing it up and then spitting it back out. A heart given was to be cherished, a hard-earned prize.

She may have been a temptress, but she played with minds, not hearts. And this mind in particular . . . well, it seemed such a shame to let it pass her by. He was stronger than he gave himself credit for, smart and steady. He was who she wanted, who she needed. The perfect balance. She was not fire, nor wind, fickle and destroying those in her path. She was earth, steady and solid. She was water, soothing and calm. But deadly when those in her care were harmed.

“Do you trust me?” she asked in her signature low tones. Her voice never wavered, never showed any signs of hesitation. She pressed her muzzle closer to his, her gaze steady against his, sky blue on ice blue.