The morning sun spilled into the clearing, its golden light brushing against the beginnings of the skeletal framework of the cabin. The fires from the night before smoldered faintly, tendrils of smoke curling into the cool air. Taryn knelt near the edge of the central firepit, tightening the laces on her boots. Her movements were brisk, precise—a warrior preparing for battle, though her battlefield lately was made of timber and dirt.
Lucien stretched, his broad shoulders rolling as he let out a satisfied sigh. "Another beautiful day in paradise," he declared, his voice carrying a playful lilt as he glanced toward Taryn. "And by paradise, I mean the place where I do all the work."
Taryn snorted, straightening. "That's a first. I didn't know lifting things counted as work for a vampire."
