Maya's fingers continued their slow journey through Phei's hair while his head rested comfortably upon her thighs, and embarrassingly enough, the warmth of her lap was doing more for his mood than every sensible thought he had tried forcing into his head since returning from Sienna's room. Her silver strands slipped over Maya's shoulders whenever she leaned forward and occasionally brushed his cheek, carrying that faint serene and almost otherworldly fragrance that always seemed to belong to her alone.
Even stranger was the peaceful presence wrapped around her, soft enough that he never felt it pressing against him, yet persistent enough to take the sharpest edges from the frustration that had followed him back.
He still wanted answers from Dravenna.
