The last of the candles was smoldering low, wax trickling slowly down their holders. The tavern lay quiet now, emptied of patrons, the lingering scent of ale and firewood thick in the air.
Taryn leaned against the bar, arms crossed, fingers aching slightly where they lay against her skin. She had no idea why she was awake—fatigue pulled at the edge of her muscles, but her mind would not be still.
Lucien lay in the armchair across from her, extending catlike, easy and pleased. He palmed a coin, the jumping light flashing off the edges. "Lots of birthdays came in today…" He started.
"Hey Kel, you were probably a little birthday terror as a kid," he teased Kah'el, talking softly and easily, half-closed silver eyes glinting in amusement.
Kah'el, who remained sitting at the end of the bar, did not even glance up from where he was honing his knife. "What gave it away?"
