Chapter 9

It wasn’t a question, but Taurin thought a moment before he nodded in reply. He wanted to stay here forever, true. In this warmth, in these arms, the hint of music just beyond his reach and ready to erupt into trills at any moment.

The look in Quim’s eyes pinned Taurin to the bed. “You are my song.”

Suddenly Taurin couldn’t breathe. His arms wouldn’t move, and he could no longer feel the linen wrapped around him or the heat of Quim’s body against his. “You are my instrument,” the bard purred. “The music within you is beautiful and I alone can set it free.”

“What are you doing?” Taurin tried to ask.