Natalie POV
The heavy oak doors of the grand suite shut behind us with a deep, echoing thud that seemed to reverberate straight into the stone bones of the black wing. The suffocating tension of the grand gallery, with its sour Alpha panic and the metallic clatter of surrendered titles, was instantly replaced by the quiet, insulated luxury of the royal chambers. Here, the only sound was the fierce, low roar of the cedar fire burning in the obsidian hearth, throwing long, liquid patterns of amber and gold across the heavy fur rugs and high velvet drapes.
I didn't step toward the fire immediately. I stood perfectly still near the threshold, my midnight-blue wool gown cascading around my ankles in heavy, unyielding folds.
The moment the administrative theater was over, the artificial adren
