The dim light of the chamber flickered as Izan carefully peeled off the layers of his disguise. His hands were slow, methodical, removing the artificial skin he had used to conceal his identity.
With each layer, the tension in his shoulders grew heavier. The dark robes he had worn to cloak himself from the world slipped to the floor, revealing the pendant resting against his bare chest.
He paused, his fingers lingering over the cool surface of the pendant. It glimmered faintly in the low light, a constant reminder of the past. Elian. The name echoed in his mind, accompanied by the memory of soft touches and whispered moans.
Izan closed his eyes, his hand tightening around the pendant. He could still feel Elian's warmth, the way his body had fit so perfectly against his own, the way his breath had hitched in the dark. Elian's moans, his gasps, had ignited something deep within him, something he hadn't felt in years.
