Lumina stirred slowly, the ache blooming deep in her core before her eyes even opened.
Every muscle protested, her thighs burned, her waist throbbed with a dull, insistent pain, and between her legs felt swollen, tender from the hours Ashen had spent claiming her until exhaustion finally pulled her under.
She had reveled in it, begged for more even as her body trembled on the edge of collapse, but now the aftermath was merciless. She tried to roll onto her back, a sharp twinge made her hiss softly through clenched teeth.
The chamber door opened with a quiet click.
Ashen stepped inside, already dressed in dark trousers and a fitted tunic of deep crimson, the collar left open to reveal the strong column of his throat. In his hands he carried a small silver tray: her favorite almond-honey cake, still warm, dusted with powdered sugar that caught the late-afternoon light slanting through the arched windows. The sky outside was a bruised violet, the sun long past its zenith.
