The room smelled of sex and firewood.
Thick velvet curtains swayed lazily with the night breeze slipping through a half-cracked window.
Shadows danced on the stone walls ...cast by the hearth fire that still burned low and steady.
The bed, massive and draped in translucent silver canopy, looked like it had survived a storm. Sheets tangled. Pillows half on the floor. A wine goblet knocked over on the rug.
Sylas Skyborne lay flat on his back, breath slowing, eyes fixed on the swirling patterns above him.
His platinum hair, damp with sweat, clung to his forehead in unruly strands. His skin gleamed faintly in the firelight, lean muscle stretched and relaxed, still humming from the pleasure they'd just finished sharing.
The woman beside him stirred.
Elara Caerwyn stretched like a cat, her bare skin brushing his as she slid a hand across his chest. "Still thinking?" she purred.
Before he could answer, a knock echoed from the door.
Sylas didn't move. "Enter."
