Tristan's POV
The chamber glowed soft red from the low lanterns hanging on iron chains as I sat in my chamber with my legs stretched out, the heavy goblet of blood resting easily in my hand. The room was warm from the low fire, and the soft sounds of laughter and moans filled the air. Two of my people, a young couple, were tangled together on the cushions across from me.
She had her head slid back a bit, eyes half-closed, while he kissed slow trails down her neck, leaving dark hickeys that bloomed like flowers under his lips. Their hands moved lazily over each other, clothes half-undone, bodies pressing closer with every breath. It was intimate, unhurried, the kind of display meant to remind everyone here that we lived free of the rules that choked the palace or other packs. I watched them and sip from my goblet now, then letting the scene wash over me like background music.
