BRIGID'S POV
The Omegas guarding the doorway flinched as I approached. Their hands twisted together, eyes darting between each other before settling on me with the trapped look of prey.
"Luna Brigid..." One finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "It's not your week."
I let my lips curve upward, not quite reaching my eyes. "Then stop me." The silence stretched between us. "Go on. Try."
Their shoulders slumped in defeat as they stepped aside. The heavy oak doors groaned as I pushed through into my husband's quarters. The quarters that should have been mine alone.
Rich aromas of roasted meat and warm spices enveloped me as I entered. Silver clinked against porcelain from the dining room. I rounded the corner and there she stood—Marion—her white silk gown catching the candlelight, f
