His fists were clenched, accentuating his corded arms; his chest was broader, and instead of being lean like Tyrrik, the Phaetyn prince was much more muscular and thick, like a tree trunk. There was something about Kamoi: his kindness, his patience, and the fact that he made me feel like I belonged with just a small touch, which spoke to me on some level. My blood knew his blood. I reached forward and rested my palm on his cheek. He gasped and pulled me to him, wrapping me in a warm embrace. He smelled like spring, like fresh rain and herbs with an undertone of smoky pine.
