Sol didn't think. His survival instincts kicked in faster than his conscious thought. He yanked his waistband back up, tying the knot with a speed that blurred his fingers. He scrambled backward, putting a respectable distance between himself and Evara, smoothing down his tunic and running a hand through his disheveled hair.
Instantly, inside the hut, the tension slowly bled out, replaced by the heavy, languid atmosphere of a predator's den after a meal. He looked at Evara, expecting confusion or panic.
Evara blinked, her caramel eyes slowly regaining their focus as she came down from the dizzying high of the "treatment." She pushed herself up on her elbows, stretching like a satisfied cat, her joints popping. She didn't seem to care that her wrap was hanging precariously low, almost falling off one shoulder, exposing creamy skin or that her hair was a bird's nest of tangles. She was looking completely unbothered and slightly dazed.
