[VOLUME 15: THE PRIMORDIAL PILGRIMAGE][ARC 3: THE RIVER OF FLOWING SAND]
Morning in the primordial wilderness did not arrive with a gentle sunrise. It bled into existence, a bruised, violet light filtering through the towering canopy of the crystal-wood trees.
Inside the enchanted silk pavilion, the air was still thick, heavy with the intoxicating scent of crushed ozone, dark spice, and the lingering, heated musk of their shared night. Elara lay tangled in the center of the massive plush bed, utterly exhausted but humming with a profound, radiant vitality.
She shifted, a soft sigh escaping her swollen lips. Instantly, a heavy, calloused arm tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against a wall of scorching, scarred muscle.
"Stay," Aldren rumbled, his voice a deep, sleep-rough gravel that vibrated delightfully against her bare spine. The Sovereign of Shadows buried his face into her hair, his breath hot against her neck.
