The guest room was quiet, save for the sound of ragged breathing and the occasional crackle of cooling dragon fire.
Roxy lay tangled in the shredded remains of the furs, her head resting on Kaelen's chest while Zarek massaged her aching legs. She was completely boneless, her body humming with a mix of exhaustion and the deep, marrow-settling satisfaction of being claimed.
"You are bruising," Zarek murmured, tracing a purple mark on her thigh with his thumb. His golden eyes were dark with guilt. "We were... rough."
"You were desperate," Roxy corrected sleepily, nuzzling into Kaelen's neck. "There's a difference. Besides, I think I gave as good as I got."
Kaelen chuckled, a low rumble that vibrated through her ribs. He kissed the top of her head, his large hand smoothing her damp hair.
Roxy frowned, a sudden thought piercing her post-coital haze. She tried to sit up, wincing slightly.
"The kids," she whispered. "Torian put them in the East Wing. With nurses."
