Resting against the massive bed's fur-lined pillows, Zarius breathed slowly and evenly, his broad frame relaxed for once. The drapes were drawn tightly shut. The fireplace had burned low, its warm amber light spreading gently through the quiet room.
But Zarius wasn't looking at the fire. His red eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, were fixed entirely on the weight pressing against his side.
Cherion was curled up against him, one arm draped casually across Zarius's waist. The man breathed softly in his sleep, far removed from the chaos that usually followed him when he was awake. His hand settled around Cherion's shoulder, drawing him nearer while the sweet scent of honey and vanilla filled his senses.
For a long time, there was only silence. He thought Cherion had finally succumbed to exhaustion after their grueling journey.
Then, Cherion shifted, poking a finger lightly into Zarius's ribs.
