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Colemenoport

Wayfarer


Shan drifted amid warm clouds, free of care, and in Balance with the universe.

Even as he drifted, he knew himself to be on the cusp between sleeping and waking. Craven, he tried to pull the clouds about him, as he might the potent fogs of Healspace, but they dissipated even as he reached for them. He would be waking soon, then, he thought, regretfully, and was on the instant aware that he had done so.

He didn’t open his eyes—not quite yet—but merely lay there, enjoying the feel of the pillow under his cheek, the weight of the blanket overlaying him, and Priscilla’s long, silken legs entangled with his. He took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of her hair, and felt her head shift on his shoulder.

“Good morning, love.”

“Good morning, Priscilla. Allow me to congratulate you on a superlative small healing.”

“It was rather a good one, wasn’t it?” she said contentedly, and suddenly yawned, her body stretching against his.

Smiling, he ran his hand down over a warm hip. Priscilla murmured, and shifted her legs.

He gasped, suddenly much less languid, and she laughed softly.

“May I propose another small healing?” she murmured.

“Oh, I think we’re in agreement,” Shan whispered, and slid his hand up to cup her breast.


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Framed