GIDEON
I had her suite prepared while she was taking a nap.
Called in every favor I had, woke staff at an ungodly hour, and personally oversaw every detail.
Not because I didn’t trust the people I employed; I had spent years building a team capable of running this territory without me.
But this was different. This wasn’t territory. This was Isla.
The room was on the same floor as mine. Close enough that I’d hear if she needed me. Far enough to give her space she didn’t have to ask for.
Now I stood in the doorway, reviewing my work with a critical eye.
The bookshelves were stocked with titles in four different languages – linguistic texts, novels, poetry collections, two editions of an Ancient Wolf dialect anthology I had sourced from a specialist in Edinburgh because Dorian’s peopl
