The room was bathed in a comfortable gloom, only the faint glow of the moon seeping through the thin curtains. The air was thick with the scent of bodies that had surrendered, of sweat mixed with the natural perfume of warm skin. Their breaths, still unsteady, were beginning to find a calmer rhythm, closer to a whisper of silence.

Jaston was lying on his back, his arms stretched out and relaxed, while Hellen nestled behind him, the skin of their bodies touching with an almost sacred softness. ...