Exclusive Snippet from Soul Weave
by A. Nybo
AWAY FROM the revelers, Aquilon leaned his lower back against a tree. Panic had him bent forward, gasping for breath. Lucien’s closeness had drawn an unbidden response from him, and even as he’d fought to keep from touching him, his fingers had reached out without volition.
For five long years he had managed to keep his desires locked down tight, but the epicene had brought everything roiling to the surface. His smile had sent the love of life singing through Aquilon’s veins, and he feared the singing had already reached his heart.