The next day began like any other in the cold, echoing halls of Alpha Devon's castle. The dawn light filtered through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Devon stirred beneath the thick furs, his body warm but his mind already calculating the tasks that lay ahead. He blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the dim light, and there she was—Olivia, standing silently at the foot of his bed like a phantom waiting to be summoned.
Her eyes, dark and steady, met his for a fleeting moment before she bowed, a graceful gesture that had become a routine between them. Devon's lips curled into a cheeky smile as he slid out of bed, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath his feet. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and warm bread wafted through the room, mingling with the faint aroma of the lavender soap she always prepared for his bath.