SOPHIA’S POV
Dinner at my parents’ house always smelled like home.
My father sat at the head of the table with my mother beside him. My brother, Marco, and his wife, Patricia, were there too. She had their daughter, Klara bouncing excitedly on her lap.
I hadn’t been surrounded by this much warmth in years. It felt almost too good.
The laughter around the table made me smile.
We ate slowly, talking over each other like we always did.
My wolf lay curled peacefully inside me, something she’d never been able to do at the pack house or even at Damien’s private villa.
Here, she didn’t have to brace for Damien’s alpha aura or Helen’s harsh voice. Here, she could breathe.
Halfway through the meal, while sipping hot broth, I realized I couldn’t hold it in anymore. They des
