Claimed by My Fiance’s Savage Alpha Uncle
“See? We can start here.”
As I leaned over to point at a listing, my knee bumped the small side table. A stack of Bella’s papers, including her now-voided rental contract, slid to the floor. We both bent to pick them up.
Tucked between the pages of her contract was an old, yellowed piece of parchment that had clearly slipped out. It wasn’t part of her paperwork. It was a hand-drawn map, the ink faded, but the lines were precise. At the top, in ornate script, it read: Moon Tide Ancestral Holdings. And in the corner of a sketched mountain range was a small, familiar symbol—a three-part knot identical to the one on my Holy Grail shard.
Bab Populer