Whispers of the Moonstone

The blizzard continued to wail against the sheer granite cliffs outside, but within the subterranean sanctuary of the Whispering Springs, the air was warm, damp, and still. Having bathed and loved one another until their bodies trembled with sweet exhaustion, Lucian and Kaelen wrapped themselves in dry fleece mantles they found stored inside an ironwood chest near the spring. The chest had been left by Blackwood scouts centuries ago, stocked…