The bed was large, circular in shape, with a very thin silk canopy enveloping it. Dimetri leaned against the arched entryway as his eyes trailed over the sleeping man. How the newcomer could look so cute while he slept made the mage smirk and shake his head, memories of a previous life flowing through his vision.
With a sigh he turned back toward the main sitting room. The scattering of pillows, liqueur bottles, and crumbled parchment created the flat Dimetri had bought for the time he spent in Silvermoon. Without much of a glance he walked toward a pile of pillows, scooped a glass with a few sips of whiskey left in it, and sat.
His brain was already lost on the previous day when he had met the Forsaken man. Met wasn’t the right...