[Silthara Palace—Midnight Stirring—Emperor's Chamber]
Moonlight spilled over the domes of Silthara like milk poured over bronze. The palace slept, or rather—most of it tried to.
But inside the Emperor's chamber, the air had shifted. Not with danger of any beast around, nor with assassins creeping through shadow.
But with heat.
A scent—dark, sweet, suffocating—like crushed night-lilies blooming in the dark.
Levin's pheromone.
Levin lay tangled in Zeramet's silver coils, the serpent form wrapped protectively around him. Yet his body wouldn't rest. Not because of the coils, nor because of the warmth.
But because his heat cycle had arrived—too early, far too early for Levin.
Asha slept at the foot of the bed, tiny chest rising and falling—until the sharp wave of pheromone hit her and she shuddered.
"Mewr…!"
She jolted awake, fur puffing, little heart racing as she looked around and then at Levin. He was sweating—skin flushed red-rose, breath unsteady, eyelids trembling.
