The Morning After.
Morning sunlight seeped softly through the slits in the thick velvet drapes, painting golden stripes across the lavish, high-ceilinged bedroom. Dust particles swirled lazily in the air, trapped in the gentle beams of light that moved slowly over the gleaming marble floor and the delicate carvings on the exquisite furnishings.
On the big silken bed, in twisted sheets of royal black, two bodies were lying together in the peacefulness of sleep. One was a man—his raven-black hair rumpled, but his face incredibly divine in the early dawn. The other, curled on his chest, was a woman of otherworldly loveliness, her long purple tresses spread out like silk across his body.
When the golden light touched his shut eyelids, the man stirred.
Leon's eyes slowly fluttered open, and his golden irises sparkled like two suns catching the morning flames. Warmth filled his chest—but weight too. Blinking twice to refocus, he looked down.
