Naomi’s pov :
I stepped through the mansion's grand front door.
We kicked off our shoes in the foyer, Lucy chattering animatedly about her poetry class. "The prof quoted Dickinson like it was gospel, 'Hope is the thing with feathers.' I felt so inspired!" Her energy was infectious, but I was ready for a quiet evening, looking forward to seeing Elias.
As if summoned by my thoughts, he appeared from the study, his broad frame filling the doorway. His golden eyes lit up with an eagerness that made my heart stutter, uncharacteristic for my stoic alpha, but ever since handing me those admission forms, he'd shown these glimpses of softness. He was still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms, his pine-smoke scent wrapping around me like a claim.
"You're back
