Good to You (Kailani)

by **Azcan** on October 5th, 2018, 6:19 am

28th of Autumn, 518. 3rd bell after Midnight.

The Tear of Tanroa,

The drummer held the bauble in the palm of his hand, the images playing over and over both in his eyes. Engraved into his memory, the Illusionist felt longing pour into his every thought. This blessed, cursed artifact made everything so fucking real. The drummer didn't just see Lani, he felt the wind tug at his hair. He felt the racing of his heart, the elation poured into him as he drank in the sight of her. He played the memory over and over, pouring himself into it until it was time to leave for the Bolt Hole. He stumbled onto the stage, slurred his words. The Illusionist found his performance to shine within the booming halls of the abandoning building. But inside, he was torn. The memory played as he did, tearing into his thoughts. The beat poured him his soul, one of anguish that Dee picked up on. The atmosphere of the Bolt Hole turned somber as Azcan ripped through himself, his heart torn from his chest and bleeding on the stage before him. The denizens of the Bolt Hole oft did not come to feel sadness during their escape. But the illusions ripped from him as his anguish did, and in the tremors, the guests allowed him his portal. When the night burned away, Azcan emerged from the Bolt Hole, a shell of himself.

The drummer stumbled with each step, catching his balance only to return to homeostasis. Pace after pace he trudged through Sunberth. Light brown eyes were glazed with his stupor, but his legs did not carry him through to the Drunken Fish. He scaled past it, through Baroque Bay and to the docks he knew his soul truly lived within. What was it about the slosh of alcohol that forced him to confront truth? He couldn't control himself as he trudged forward. The young drummer slammed into a signpost, falling to the earth with a massive thud. He groaned with pain he could hardly feel, finding it much more vivid in the moments when he tried to rise. His head hit the post next, his eyes popping from his skull. The pain stabilized him for the moment, his head ringing when he finally rose to his feet. Azcan half walked, half crawled forward, finding the rope ledge that 'stopped' people from falling over and into the waters. He used that rope to pull him forward, his stumbling ceasing as he found the casinor he'd known by sight for years.

It was the drummer's first time on it in his time in Sunberth, but he'd seen Lani walk in and out of it. He watched her from afar as she returned from whatever she did with it. The middle of the afternoon, early evening, she'd return at different hours but nonetheless, the drummer watched. He hated himself for it, but he found relief tear shivers down his spine as he climbed aboard the ship. His legs falling into place on the wooden deck carried thuds and vibrations. The ship moved beneath him and Azcan stumbled yet again. The back of his legs collided with the bulwark, forcing him into a seated position. He heaved there for several moments, feeling the bruises swell along with his calves. He rose before two steps forward forced him to the floor again. The drummer didn't rise this time. Instead, he shifted to a seated position. When Azcan turned his body, his back met the familiar surface of the rise in the hull. Her cabin was behind him, the woman most certainly less than ten feet away from his back. Azcan seemed to lose his nerve and instead huddled against the wood.

The drummer's bare flesh was weak to the cold in his stupor, shivers pouring through his body as he retrieved the Tear of Tanroa from his satchel. He looked into the beautiful bauble yet again, unsleeving it from its lovely blue sack. The memory played again, glazed eyes drinking in the tanned flesh of a woman who was so very close, and yet... she was an ocean away. The drummer allowed the anguish to flood him anew, but now there were no drums. There was no sanctuary to siphon his pain into, and instead it fell from his cheeks as tears that stung at his senses. Violence did not bring tears to the drummer, nor did any sort of physical pain. Yet, drunken as shit, turning to a jewel to retrieve a single, beautiful memory from his mind was enough to undo Azcan. the drummer wept in the darkness of Sunberth's night, forgetting place or name and allowing it to pour through him. The wooden hull and deck of the ship eluded him. As far as the drummer was concerned, he was anywhere else, isolated and truly torn asunder.

Directionless, clueless, Azcan let his pain free into the night.

by **Kailani** on October 6th, 2018, 7:00 am

A loud crash on the deck above brought Kailani from her restless slumber, a kick of adrenaline vaulting her into awareness as soon as she opened her eyes. Shyke. A late night intruder rarely boded well in a place like Sunberth, and when she heard the sound of footfalls mere strides away from where she lay, she couldn’t help but fear the worst. A thief? A murderer? Worse? She wasn’t eager to find out, but she’d be damned if she went out without a fight.

The Svefra rose as quietly from her bed as she could manage and grabbed her eating knife, the closest object at hand that could pose as a weapon. I really ought to remedy that, she idly thought as she crept toward the door of her cabin with her heart in her throat. Several more thumps and thuds followed the initial sound, Kailani wondering at the trespasser’s complete lack of stealth. Were the ne’er-do-wells here truly so bold? Suppose it doesn’t matter in a city steeped in anarchy. Who would really try to stop them?

When the bangs and crashes at last came to a halt, she let her hand gently turn at the knob and pondered whether to run out screaming or try to catch whomever it was by surprise. Little chance they won’t see the door open, though. But one could hope for the best. With a deep breath, she brandished the small knife in her palm and released a shaky breath. She slowly counted backwards from five in her head as she pulled her wits together, then flung the door open with a sharp cry. Kailani Crestwidow would not go down silently.

Oceanic orbs scanned the darkness around her as she sought the invader, and it wasn’t long before they came to rest on a hunched form not feet away from the entrance to her quarters. “Show yours-“ the sailor cut herself off as she stepped closer, her sight slowly adjusting to the moonlight illuminating Azcan’s familiar features. What was he doing here in the middle of the night? What sort of nerve did this boy have? The woman could feel the rage coiling in her stomach as she closed the distance between them, angry strides bringing her face-to-face with the drummer who had so recently disrupted her world. And here he was, doing it again. Her white-knuckled grip on the knife in her hand was painfully tight, not sure whether she should lower it now that she recognized her intruder, or if she had more reason to use it than even before.

“Azcan, what the hell are you-“ Kai cut herself off once more as she caught sight of the item in his hands, her knife clattering to the deck as it fell from a hand suddenly numb. “You-you have one, too?” she whispered, knees folding beneath her as she dropped to the floor in an unceremonious heap. Biting her lip, she searched his face; his tear-stained visage melting away the scattered remnants of her nearly forgotten rage. No matter how angry she was with him, Kailani couldn’t bear to see him so…broken. It undid something in her, a long-held resentment that dissolved at the sound of his keening cry. After all, the Svefra woman wasn’t heartless, and Azcan…gods, Azcan. He’d always been her downfall.

She was afraid to look into the Tear after gazing upon that desolate face, but she couldn’t stop herself-Kailani peering into its depths only long enough to recognize the memory held within. That’s not possible. Both hands raised to her mouth with a sharp gasp as she averted tear-stricken gaze, unable to believe what she saw. Not the same moment, no, but the same night. Both of their Tears of Tanroa held the same night.

Hands trembling as she dashed the tears from the corners of her eyes, she turned back to look at the drummer and found herself speechless for what seemed like an eternity. What could she say? There was far too much to say. At last, she managed to choke out, “Is this why you’re here?” Her normally melodic voice was quiet, but rough, hardly recognizable even to her own ears. She reached out to cover his hands with her own, pulling them around the Tear to obscure it from both of their sight. Kailani couldn’t bear to look at it, not again. Not after torturing herself so many times with the one she held within her own possession.

by **Azcan** on October 7th, 2018, 3:27 am

The drummer considered throwing the Tear of Tanroa away from him, the beautiful bauble and the precious memory it played for him over and over again was hurling him into the beast that was liquor.

Azcan didn't hear the knife clatter to the floor, nor did he hear the door open before that. He was lost in his intoxication, and it was only when the figure that was Lani fell to the floor that he was alerted to a presence. Azcan felt the dried tears against his face, his body curled into itself, knees perpendicular to the floor. First, she spoke in a garbled mess, the drummer's glazed countenance hovering at her open mouth as silent words spilled into his brain. Azcan remembered where he was, and reality came crashing down in front of him. Seeing Kailani's anger break didn't, wouldn't give him any relief. She'd told him she wanted nothing to do with him and cast out of his room.

The memory he was cursed with found him face-to-face with this peculiar artifact, a treasured orb that was both his bane and his crutch in the wake of her absence. He fell into watching the scene play out, taking it with him from place to place whenever he had a moment. Admittedly, those moments were few and far between, with how grueling they were to experience.

The drummer stared at Kailani for a moment longer without speaking, the both of them hovering within a dark eternity of silence before she posed her question. She was so quiet, so fragile as her words tore into the night and with them, humiliation cast upon him. Azcan wasn't so sensitive, was he? The drummer was consumed by this thing and when the source of his ire knelt before him, there was nothing he could say or do.

Azcan felt her hands placed on top of his own, the depths of his misery obscured from his sight before he held the bauble in one hand. The azure case it was meant to be housed in came when he reached for it. Azcan put the Tear away, stowing it within his backpack before he returned his gaze to Lani in full. The humiliation arose from broken words, his assurances torn away from him. Alcohol was a different beast than the Bolt Hole Blow he favored so. It didn't mute emotions and heighten sensation, its high far more centered on the mind and ripping it into nothingness. Booze was the greatest of his tormentors, and inwardly he made the hollow promise to abandon it for life. Drugs were fine, but if he continued to feel this wretched nothingness, he'd most certainly die from it. Azcan nodded, a reluctance to the motion as he shifted.

Azcan slowly pushed into the wall, as if to create distance between himself and Lani. The downer had his heart at a sluggish pace, his body reluctant to meet quick demand and he neither could nor would rise in retreat. Azcan's light brown eyes peered into Lani's own as his fingers, no longer holding the Tear of Tanroa sifted into Lani's own hand. The touch was gentle, a tenderness to the way his fingertips brushed along her palm before sliding between each of hers. Azcan couldn't smile, but instead looked to Lani with a mixture of emotions. Alarm was the most present among them, panic welling within his senses but hampered by his drunkenness.

"The last sight of you..." he managed, his words just as choked as hers, but carrying with them the accusing finger of one unable to cope with what he was experiencing. His grasp tightened just slightly, though the thumbs at her palms continued their tender circles into her skin. "Brought about this... thing. You said... you have one, too? W-what does it show you?" he asked. He had to know. What was the memory she held so dear as to have a Goddess preserve it in what could be interpreted as sympathy.

No. This is a curse, a bauble given to people who deserve nothing but agony, he assured himself, cursing the bauble but utterly unable to let it go.

by **Kailani** on October 7th, 2018, 7:41 pm

When Azcan’s fingers sifted into hers, Kailani bit her lip, her own hands tightening around his. She knew she should tell him to go, that she should cast him from her boat, but the sight of him so lost and broken dissolved all of her defenses. Even with her righteous resolve and fighting every day to convince herself that she was better off without him, the heart wanted what it wanted. And right then, all her heart wanted was to see her drummer boy’s smile again.

So distracted she’d been by his appearance that she’d hardly noticed the weather, but suddenly she became all too aware of the rain drenching her clothes. “Come on,” she urged, carefully rising to her feet and tugging at his hands. “Come inside, and I’ll show you,” Kai replied to his questions as she gently assisted him to his feet, linking her arm with his as she led him back toward the cabin. She was careful to make sure he collided with nothing else, equal parts tender and resentful of that tenderness as she guided him inside. She shut and locked the door behind them as she gestured for him to take a seat on the bed.

The sight of him in that room stirred even more memories than the Tear had, Kailani catching her breath with a pang in her chest. How long had it been since he’d sat on that very bed? Since they’d sailed together under sun and moon alike? It felt like years, but at the same time, it felt like only the day before. An aeon’s worth of grievances lay between them, but here he was again, like no time had passed. Was this destined to be their fate forevermore?

This is a mistake, the Svefra told herself, even as she opened the chest that held the small otterskin bag. I should make him leave. She walked back over to the bed, ignoring her own advice as she took a seat next to him and untied the bag in her lap with trembling fingers. Fingers gently caressed over its slippery surface as she removed the Tear of Tanroa and revealed it to both of their gazes. “See for yourself,” she whispered as the image started to play, forcing herself to watch it again for what felt like the thousandth time. It was no less gut-wrenching than before, even with the familiarity of repetition.

The Svefra hardly had a moment to react before she was caught up in Azcan’s grasp and flung into the ocean, instincts taking over as her legs propelled her back to the surface. Rising out of the water with a gasp, she fixed Azcan with a glare, fixing to ream him out for throwing her into the water without asking. Before she could breathe a word, however, his mouth captured hers, forgetting her censure in the wake of his passionate caress. Her arms and legs alike found their way around him, tongue teasingly snaking between his lips before he finally pulled back.

That moment they’d hit the water together, when her senses had opened to the ocean around them, the way he’d kissed away her knee jerk of rage…That was the moment the Goddess had chosen for her, a moment that was now branded into her memory with all the searing reality of the night it had happened. Whenever she gazed into that Tear, it was as if she was truly being transported back to that time-the saltwater viscous against her bronzed skin, his chest warm against her body as he pulled her in flush against his form. What manner of divine joke was this? How did they both see the same night?

Kailani glanced at Azcan’s face for his reaction, unable to look at the cursed object any longer. The combination of emotions it stirred within her was too complex, too snarled to be sorted at this time of the night. Instead, she watched the emotions flit over her companion’s face as she sought to block out her own. “What could this possibly mean?” she finally asked, that same hoarse tone to her voice as before. Her eyes desperately searched his for the answers she couldn’t fathom, but how could he know any more than she did? It was a useless endeavor, yet one she still had to pursue. Though, who could presume to know the whims of the divines?

by **Azcan** on October 8th, 2018, 5:46 pm

.

Azcan didn't like tying additional meaning to coincidences. The strings of Fate pulled to their own effect, regardless of whim or want of its victims. The drummer was compelled in their last meeting to think it a tiding of fate, but it was mere coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. The tidings of purpose did not fling fire into the heart, nor did it care so deeply about two unimportant souls. Azcan wasn't disillusioned with the fact, but merely accepting of his lot in the world. The drummer, of course, fought against the pulls of misfortune, stumbling onto Lani's boat only to lose his nerve at the last possible moment. Of course, she heard his intensely noisy approach. The woman pulled him to his feet and he followed her. He rose to his feet and stumbled forth until he was sitting on her bed.

Azcan was drunk, but he wasn't so foolish to miss the conflict written on Lani's face. As she released her own Tear of Tanroa from its otterskin bag, he found her sitting next to him. She released the imagery and though Azcan didn't feel the memory as he would with his own, he saw the same night, the one he visualized those moons ago from different eyes. Azcan pursed his lips as he watched the visage of himself tackle Lani off of the very boat they were settled in. The kiss he felt through the vestiges of his own memory, a flush carrying along his intoxicated features.

The drummer's gaze was glazed over and he showed his astonishment with his slack-jawed expression. A fire burned within his chest, both rising nausea from his intoxication and a wild, unknown feeling of reassurance that welled within him. Could this mean that Lani wasn't so far away from him, after all? The drummer poured himself into stupors for her, neglecting his use of narcotics in the plunge in another vice. Azcan's arms wrenched from their place at his sides. They looped around Kailani and sought to pull her closer to him. The embrace he imposed on her was short-lived, but the lips that brushed against her cheek were tender to the touch.

"I'm not sure. I'm not supposed to be a wreck like this, Lani... I'm s'posta hide it, y'know," he began, his speech slightly slurred from his indulgences. The drummer was just as confused as she was, but he had the benefit of inhibitions being entirely thrown by the wayside. He left his room with a fervent desire, or rather, need to confront her. While Azcan lost the heat with his fall, it also replenished within him at the sight of her so conflicted, so beautiful in the midst of his drunken state. Azcan raised a hand to brush his fingertips along the smooth flesh he'd kissed just moments before. His caress poured with it the desire for reconciliation. He'd seek to turn her to face towards him before he leaned forward to elaborate,

"But I can't help myself. This Tear's been the death of me. That memory is the happiest one I've got left. A reminder of a time when you saw me as... something else than... this," he gestured to himself. The drummer dressed rather similarly as he always did. The shared past they held had the drummer with so many of the same tendencies and yet... inside, he was utterly different. Deception wove its way into the depths of his soul, the many faces of the Illusionist's nature bubbling up and guarding him from pain or accountability. However, tonight, with Kailani in front of him, his illusions wilted away. Azcan was lost in the maelstrom of his intoxicated musings and was certain that they wouldn't end any time soon.

"You saw someone who might not exist anymore. And yet... whatever's left of that Azcan keeps forcing you into my head. He... I... can't help but chase after the beautiful woman who danced to the beat of my drum," he admitted.

by **Kailani** on October 8th, 2018, 11:14 pm

When Azcan’s arms wound around her, Kailani stiffened and closed her eyes against the touch of his mouth. She wanted nothing more than to lean into that caress, to let him kiss away the pain and fear of the last several weeks, but conflict warred within her heart and mind. How many times were they destined for the same song and dance before they learned the error of their ways? Before they came to their senses and rid themselves of each other, once and for all?

But the Svefra didn’t care to listen to the advice of her mind, following the whims of her heart instead as she wove herself into his embrace. When he went to pull away, she held him in place, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she sought to hide the emotions flickering across her features. She was no less conflicted as she nuzzled in closer, clinging desperately to his warm familiarity like the anchor that held her ship at sea. Foolish, foolish, foolish, her dreaded inner voice whispered in the back of her mind, but for better or for ill, she set it aside.

With a shuddering intake of breath, Kailani kissed a gentle line up the side of his throat to stop at his cheek. She rested her head against his for a moment before she pulled back enough to trace her hand along the side of his face. “To be human is to change, Azcan, to grow,” she whispered, the ball of her thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone while deep cerulean eyes caught and held light amber. “No one remains static, and whether we change for the better or for the worse…that is for us to decide.” Her free hand rose to cup the other side of his face, Kailani leaning in to press a brief kiss against his lips. “But who we are at our core…that rarely changes.” One hand dropped to his chest, fingertips resting just above where his heart beat. “I know the you at your core, Azcan. There is a good man there, full of curiosity and wonder at the ways of the world. A man who wants the best for others, and will break his back to achieve it. He is still there, even if you try to bury him beneath intoxicants and illusions.”

Kailani’s eyes closed as she leaned her forehead into his, slim fingers stroking gently along his chest. Her voice dropped until it was barely audible, tone breaking as she continued, “And if you want the woman who danced to the beat of your drum, that is the man I need you to be.”

She sat with her forehead against his for another several breaths, still and silent with her heart slowing to match the pace of his. A trembling hand ran through his hair when at last she spoke again, “I cannot abide the lies, Azcan. It cannot be as it has been before. If you wish to find your way into my heart again, these childish games of give and take must end.”

She pulled back from him and let her hands fall, twining their fingers once more instead. Her gaze moved to their linked hands, eyes hidden behind a veil of thick lashes as she stroked at his palms. “I need you, Azcan. I need you now like I’ve never needed you before. I…I can’t do this alone.” Her voice was small, soft, filled with a broken plea. “But I’d rather be alone than constantly deceived. If we’re going to continue on as we always have before, then you might as well leave now while the wound is still clean. I can’t let it fester anymore.”

The Svefra’s face was deadly serious when she finally looked up at him again. “So, what’ll it be, boy wonder? Is the woman in the Tear worth a life of truth?”

by **Azcan** on October 9th, 2018, 1:30 pm

.

When the drummer first felt Kailani stiffen in his hold, he felt the first, consuming fires of rejection build up in his heart. He suspected that she'd pull away, throw him off of her bed and banish him. The worst possibilities arose within him as biting flame, but the thoughts wilted in turn when she held him to her trembling form. The drummer felt a shiver coil through his trim musculature as her features buried into the crook of his neck. The warmth of their embrace brought about a stark chill that ripped through his spine. Azcan melted into that embrace as her lips began to forge a path along the side of his throat. His eyes fell shut as her answer poured forth, those accented words somewhat stiff, but laden with a wisdom to them that the drummer could never hope to possess. She brought up change and growth, using them synonymously, but the drummer knew that the changes he'd been through were horizontal in nature. Azcan came to Sunberth, and as with most of the guests to the anarchist city, festered within it. At times, the light she accused him of possessing showed, in generosity or a desire to form smiles upon the features of others.

Was there truly a good man inside the drummer's skin? Could he really go back to that? The drummer listened, hanging onto each and every word of singing praise for the man he used to be. The words were as uplifting as they were venomous, spewing fire into his blood as she stroked along his chest. Her forehead brushed against his own as he felt her trembling fingers sift into his hair next. Azcan listened to the ultimatum that came next. She wanted him to be an honest man? She did. And yet the bright and shining lies he told were often much kinder than the harsh truths of the world.

Azcan came to rely on the lies, to push deeper and deeper into himself the person she thought he could be. He knew it and could see the drummer she truly wanted as an echo within his heart. But, was that person worth the pain it'd take to unveil him?

Yes, he reasoned to himself. The soft, broken tones of her words reverberating off the walls of the casinor's cabin tugged at the being hidden deep within. Azcan felt his light brown eyes widen, his body shifting. The drummer turned, pressing Lani into the mattress of her bed. Slowly, hands moved to lay claim to her wrists. He'd place her arms over her head as his lips laid claim to her own.

Azcan didn't give her the answer she wanted right away. Instead, he used the physical contact, lips upon his own and her clothed chest against his wet flesh as a means of reassurance. Azcan emboldened himself with the flare of affection, his lips drew against her own before teeth played at her lower lip. That kiss spoke of an unbidden hunger, his throat producing a growl that vibrated against her before he pulled away to consider the monumental nature of that ultimatum.

She asks me to regress so quickly. Two seasons to be undone in a moment's breath? he mused. As time passed the drummer felt his intoxication give way. His chest beat with the steady rhythm of an aggravated heart, his conflict so very present upon his features before he answered her,

"If you asked me to hurl myself into the water and tie myself to your anchor, I'd do it, Lani. But... what you're asking is so difficult to maintain. Lies and deception are the cultures I've come to know. Illusions and drugs are the lynchpins of survival." Accented Fratava was a language Azcan had come to know rather well in his time aboard the Wayward Tabernacle, requiring the full faculty of his senses to understand everything she said in full. Azcan battled with her proposal, knowing just how desperately he sought after the prize.

The drummer's fingertips trailed along the flesh of her forearms, keeping her limbs pinned above her body. The sway of his chest against hers was slow, his lips capturing hers yet again in the briefest display of affection as he continued to muse aloud. He'd offer her the best assurance he could, given the gravity of her demand.

"I can do my utmost, to be honest with you. If people saw the wreck you see in front of you, I might never be able to show my face again. If you keep my secrets, I'll show you no lies," he assured her. With the simple assurance, Azcan released her arms, and allowed his fingertips to paint lines of touch along the expanse of her shoulders, spilling along her form before he threw himself off the top of her. He'd settle on the bed next to her, one eye hidden against the surface of the mattress, the other wide, light brown orb trained on her.

by **Kailani** on October 10th, 2018, 1:09 am

The slow tide of desire rose in Kailani’s blood as Azcan tumbled her back to the mattress, her lips surrendering themselves to his with barely a thought. This was the language they’d always spoken best, the language of the flesh. Unspoken words that each of them could clearly understand, and the words he spoke so silently then were the ones she needed to hear.

“I care naught for the lies you tell the rest of the world,” she whispered against his mouth before he pulled away and lay next to her. She turned on her side to face him. “I care only for the lies you tell me.”

A gentle hand reached out to stroke over his hair, knuckles brushing down the side of his face. His expression was open, honest, and genuine, but how much of a buffoon would she be to actually believe him? To believe that he could truly be honest with her? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fooled her. Undoubtedly, it wouldn’t be the last. How many times would she let it happen before she finally put it to an end?

At least one more time, it seemed. Kailani pulled the drummer in for yet another kiss, the taste of surrender on her tongue. Even if she was skeptical, even if she couldn’t bring herself to fully believe him…at her core, she didn’t want to be without him. That she should be so weak over a man upset every single one of her sensibilities, but she couldn’t help herself. Not with Azcan. She was vulnerable here, and he was a link to home-even if it was a tenuous one. But no matter how she justified it to herself, no matter how she dressed it up, it all boiled down to one simple fact. She wanted him. And Kailani Crestwidow made sure she got what she wanted, even if it came back to bite her in the end.

“I will keep your secrets as if they were my own,” she murmured as she pulled back from the kiss. “But so help me, if you try to pull the wool over my eyes one more time, Azcan, this is over. All of it.” Her gaze rose to meet his, not an ounce of humor on her face as she searched his. “I cannot continue on this way forever. We are either in this together, or we aren’t. No more back and forth, no more hot and cold. I just. Can’t. Take it anymore.”

The Svefra woman was quiet for a few moments as she met his eyes, before she finally sighed and looked away. All the tension she held was released in that breath, a tired smile making its way over her features. “But it’s late,” she murmured, thin fingers divesting herself of her clothing and tossing it aside before she pulled the bed furs up and around them. “There will be time enough in the morning for promises and threats.”

One arm slung its way around his waist as she settled her head against his chest. Kailani let herself be soothed by the steady thrum of his heart beneath her ear, nuzzling in against his flesh. One by one, the muscles in her body started to relax. Her thoughts drifted farther and farther apart, the commingling of fear and relief slowly dissolving the longer she held herself within his embrace. “Sleep with me, drummer boy. Our problems will still be waiting for us tomorrow.”