Nadia's POV
The air in the living room was thick, smelling of Lucian's heavy Alpha sandalwood and a cloying, floral scent that could only belong to Abbie.
Lucian was sitting on the leather sofa.
And there she was, Abbie, perched on the edge of the armchair, looking like a fragile porcelain doll that had just been unpacked.
“Nadia, you're back,” Lucian said. He didn't get up. “Hugh had already moved her things into the guest suite.”
The pup inside my belly was restless, sensing my spiking pheromone.
“Her things? Why are her things in our house?”
“She was discharged today,” he said, his voice dropping into that defensive growl. “It's temporary. She doesn't have a secure apartment yet.”
Abbie looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Nadia, please don't be mad. I asked Lucia
