The low murmur of familiar voices pulled Rowan from his sleep. One of them glided over the edges of his awareness like a cool stream, though the words themselves remained indecipherable. Instead of trying to untangle the meaning, he could only wonder why Lysander was in his house while he slept.
He tried to ignore everything except the drowsiness that still clung to him and the unmistakable warmth of Wren's hand on his own, but the sound of his name spoken in Willow's soft tones pricked in his ears, making his eyes drift open despite his desire to keep them closed.
A grumble that could only belong to Nicasi interrupted her, and Willow fell silent.