A soft emerald light spilled from the crystal lamp on Ashlynn's bedside table as she snuggled into Nyrielle's gentle embrace. Her lover's body was still warm from the bath, and she smelled of lavender and jasmine soap along with a softer, subtler scent that belonged to Nyrielle alone.
Following Ashlynn's gathering with her coven, she'd left Isabell to become better acquainted with Ollie and Virve while she withdrew to spend the evening with Nyrielle. Both the vampire and her witch carried their share of anxieties about the attack on Hanrahan town and while they were confident that Dame Sybyll and Heila had won the day, neither of them knew what price they'd paid to do it.
If they were fortunate, a messenger would arrive before dawn with detailed news, but how quickly word would arrive depended greatly on which of Sybyll's forces had survived the battle. If casualties had been high, or if the town refused to submit, it might be another day or more before word would arrive.
