It was the 19th of November already. Forty-two days remained until the sacred mating ceremony. Emma had just returned from the estate healing den, where Teddy—the loyal guard who took a silver bullet meant for her—was still undergoing treatment. The faint scent of herbs and wolf-healing elixirs clung to her skin as she walked straight into the study chamber to write.
Her mate had gone to a meeting with pack members, leaving with the great bird and several elite guards, their dominant auras trailing behind them.
"How did it go at the royal court?" Mr. Richard asked as he appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of vanilla shake. The rich, soothing aroma filled the chamber, calming yet distracting.
Emma curled her fingers slightly, beckoning him closer, and he stepped forward to hand it to her.
"I made it specially for you," he grinned. "It can enhance your creativity as you write."
She poured the drink into her writer's mug and handed the empty glass back to him.
