Chloe’s pov
I sat on the velvet bench by my bedroom window, my fingers clutching a cup of cold ginger tea.
Down in the stone courtyard below, the morning mist was beginning to lift. Nash stood near the archway, surrounded by his Beta, Wylie, and three perimeter guards. He was dressed in his dark leather hunting tunic, his broad shoulders squared, his deep voice carrying faintly up to my open sill as he gave orders for the daily border patrols.
Tabitha stepped out from the side porch, holding a folded wool cloak. She walked straight up to Nash, leaning in close to say something in his ear.
Nash didn't pull away. He took the cloak, his large hand brushing her shoulder in a quiet, protective gesture that made my stomach knot into a tight, agonizing ball.
I leaned my head against the cold
