The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Nero lay on his back, his chest rising and falling with the slow rhythm of sleep. Khione was curled against him, her head on his shoulder, her white hair spread across his arm like spilled moonlight. She had been asleep for hours, her body finally at rest after the intensity of the night.
Then her eyes opened.
She did not move at first. She simply lay there, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear, feeling the warmth of his body against hers. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. His breathing was deep, even, peaceful.
She tilted her head and looked at his face. In sleep, the lines of tension that usually marked his features were softened. He looked younger, unguarded, vulnerable. A strand of dark blue hair had fallen across his forehead. She reached up and brushed it aside, her fingers lingering on his skin.
