[Rynthall Estate—Night, Silas's Chamber]
Silas gently placed a fast-asleep Lucien onto the enormous bed like he was laying down the world's most precious (and potentially dramatic) artifact. Lucien, wrapped in a soft throw, was snoring like a smug baby who'd just won a petty argument before passing out mid-victory.
Silas pulled the blanket up to his chin, stared for a moment at the mess of his black hair, then leaned down and kissed his forehead softly.
He blinked.
Then kissed his left cheek.
Another blink.
Then the right cheek.
Lucien let out a low groan in his sleep, scrunching his nose like a cat refusing belly rubs.
Silas blinked again—this time slower—and hovered over Lucien's lips like a thief contemplating a heist. He was just about to lean in for the forbidden fruit when—
"Before you start EATING him—why don't we go finish some work?"
Silas flinched like someone had dumped cold water down his spine.
