A gentle, delicate movement in the air, and the jasmine scent grew stronger, starting to feel almost sensual.
Soren didn't need to open his eyes. He knew the scent. It was the scent of his saviour and the man who had imprisoned him, the man who called his possessive greed "love". He prepared himself for Lucian's usual high-energy behaviour, for the touches that always seemed to come with too much intensity, or the sharp, jealous questions that often followed wherever they went.
But there was only warmth.
He'd fallen asleep early tonight, meaning Lucian got back to their bed after midnight. The sound of snow falling on the wooden windows was barely loud enough to hear.
Outside, there was definitely some heavy snowfall going on again.
