Dane’s POV
The moment I stepped through the door, the air changed.
Warm. Scented faintly of herbs and honey and something else. Something alive. My wolf stirred immediately, recognizing what my mind still refused to name.
Donna.
She was sitting near the window, wrapped in soft linen and fading light, her hair damp from a bath.
The golden sunset spilled over her skin, making her look unreal and too fragile for the world I ruled, too human for the kind of bond we shared.
But what truly caught me off guard wasn’t her.
It was Clara.
The little maid was standing beside her, smiling while arranging the tray on the table. The sight nearly made me stop in the doorway. Clara had never smiled at anyone but my mother.
She didn’t trust easily; she barely spoke to the guards, and she avoided
