Novah’s POV
She didn’t press. With the quiet efficiency born of years caring for a neglected child, she guided me inside, away from the prying eyes of the pack compound. The grand foyer, with its cold marble floors and imposing portraits of stern-faced Alphas from generations past, felt even more unwelcoming than usual. Meredith steered me towards the back of the house, towards the warmer, slightly shabbier domain of the kitchen.
“Sit,” she instructed softly, pulling out a sturdy wooden chair at the worn kitchen table. She bustled to the stove, pouring steaming water from the kettle into a large mug. The familiar clink of china was comforting. She added a heaping spoonful of honey and a slice of lemon before placing the mug in front of me. “Drink. Warm yourself up. You’re chilled to the bone.”
I wrapped my trembling hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into my skin. The sweet, tart scent of the lemon-honey tea was a small comfort. I took a tentative sip, the warmth spreading d
