Cahill
"My alpha," this is the first statement from a feminine voice the moment I make my way into my chambers.
I wonder who that can be?
Mathilda? Did she return?
But the voice isn't soft and soothing like hers. It sounds way mature.
"Welcome," I get stunned when the last person I am expecting to see emerges from the huge wine curtains. It seems she's stayed here, waiting for my arrival for a while.
How the hell did she get in here?
No servants are in here, else I would've said they were cleaning and she sneaked her way in.
Theodora Wilson walks up to me with a side-lipped smile, making sure her heels click professionally on the floor.
She's dressed in a white strapless gown and I narrow my eyes in their sockets for a few seconds, wondering if it's Mathilda's dress because I bought something similar to that for my wife.
