Nevara
By the time Thoren left the room again, reluctantly pulled back into the duties the night had interrupted but not erased, my body still felt warm from him in ways that made concentrating on anything practical seem almost impossible.
He had kissed my forehead before leaving, murmuring something about checking on the progress of the antidote research and speaking with the scientists before returning, and I had every intention of being useful while he was gone.
At least that had been the intention.
The problem was my mind had other ideas.
Every attempt to return to the interview files ended the same way. I would open a folder, read half a paragraph, and suddenly be remembering the weight of his hands, the way his voice had roughened, the third mark still tingling faintly at my thr
