Lucas rose swiftly, the weight of cultivation still running through his limbs as though his veins had been lit with fire. He reached for his robe and slipped it across his shoulders, tying it loosely as he turned toward the bed. Nyx lay there, her breathing soft and even, her hair cascading across the pillow in dark waves. There was a faint glow to her skin, the aftereffect of the Yang energy he had poured into her during the night. It was still circulating gently within her, nourishing her body and leaving her wrapped in a comfort she had likely never experienced before.
He paused for a moment, his expression softening as he leaned over her. She looked peaceful in a way that struck him deeply, her usual tension dissolved completely. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek before he bent down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Rest well," he whispered under his breath, careful not to disturb her. "You've carried too much already."
