The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

His tongue found the most sensitive delicate hollow, his hands sent flame through them both. His desire became hers. Her need filled him and grew stronger.
    Heat built deep within her, expanded, surrounded him, and flowed back. Heat and need. There was so much they needed to share, to say to each other with voices and bodies.
    There was a tug at her shoulder. She shrugged out of her kirtle and shift. The heat continued to build even as cool evening air washed over her sensitive skin. An ache built with the heat.
    The roughness of his shirt teased her taut nipples. Impatiently she pulled the garment up over his head. His skin covered sleek muscles that rippled and molded under her touch. Their bodies melted together as if they had always belonged together. They needed to join their bodies to complete what their souls had already begun.
    Colors burst forth. Bright splashes of copper and gold. Darts of the colors of their lives spread out across the heavens, into the void where only dragons and souls existed.
    Passion and need rose and soared within them, pulling them higher, faster, ever farther. A distant blue blended with their elements and drew others into the vortex until they were all colors, no colors, swirling in the wind created by dragon flight, soaring with dragon ease on the currents above and around them.
    They flew with dragons. A braided shaft of red and blue separated from the nimbus and twined around them, joining their union. It plaited and blended their copper and gold within its unique twists of blue and red, binding each part into a whole.
    Time drifted in lazy circles. Brevelan did not, could not fight it. She was complete. The lonely emptiness that had driven her was filled to overflowing. Her need was temporarily sated. With a deep sigh of contentment she closed her eyes and slept, wrapped in warmth and love.
     
    Morning light crept through cracks in the walls of the hut. Brevelan lazily opened her eyes. It was late. She needed to be up and about. There were chores to be done.
    The double cot was crowded as usual. When the nights were cold, Darville and Mica joined her. Often several squirrels and mice, a rabbit or three, and sometimes even the bright yellow and gray jay bird, who scolded her so frequently, cuddled close to keep her cozy. A better arrangement than sharing a narrow pallet with three blanket-greedy sisters.
    She shifted a little, surprised at just how crowded the bed was this morning. A heavy arm, sprinkled with golden hair, rested across her waist. A leg encircled hers.
    Awareness burst upon her. The arm belonged to Darville. He was no longer a wolf, but a man. A strong, and wonderfully gentle man at that. She touched the fine swirls of hair on his chest. With her toes she caressed the leg and felt a responding movement from behind her.
    She stilled her body and mind, as she did when secreting herself in the forest. Darville was not the only person in bed with her.
    Cautiously she peeked over his broad shoulder, toward the cot by the hearth.
    It was empty!
    “Jaylor?” she called softly, with her mind as well as her voice.
    “Hmmhph?” he murmured from behind her.
    “Jaylor!”
    “What?” he replied, a little more awake.
    “What!” Darville responded.
    Her eyes met Darville’s, then they both looked to the other side of the bed, toward the wall, where their friend lay, relaxed and grinning, and as naked as they.
    “Good morning,” he greeted them.

Chapter 25
     
    J aylor examined the hut with new eyes. He leaned against the open door, surveying his surroundings. The circle of stones forming the hearth was the same as he last remembered, and yet not. When he looked at familiar objects straight on, they were covered with distorting mist. But a sideways glance revealed sharp outlines, clearer than he had ever experienced before. Sort of the way he had to tackle a difficult spell-unraveling.
    He turned his attention to a reexamination of the objects he knew so very well. The oversized cot against the far wall definitely looked different. His experiences there colored his perceptions. The blankets had been straightened, just barely. The imprint of three tightly woven bodies still remained, while the smaller cot he had spirited from the University storerooms stood empty and barren.
    He grinned. Life, as well as the air around him, had taken on a new clarity. He could almost see through solid objects in the familiar/odd room. Brevelan was more transparent than anything