The morning light filtered faintly through the heavy curtains. Silence reigned in the royal suite, that rare, weightless peace that exists only at dawns where time has yet to deliver the burdens of a new day.
In the center of the canopy bed, Elara lay against Dareth's chest, her arms wrapped around his body, one leg resting possessively against his hip. The blanket covered them only halfway, their naked bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the air. The bond between them still pulsed softly, like the aftershock of a shared dream.
Elara stirred slowly, instinctively, as Dareth's fingers brushed down her back in a reflex born of slumber. Neither of them was truly awake. Not yet. The world had not claimed them back.
And then...
BAM.
The door slammed open.
The heavy panel struck the
