Naomi rushed toward Emma the moment she caught sight of her ascending the staircase to retrieve the image Brooklyn had given her. Brandon had insisted on seeing it before returning to his Alpha duties.
"Highmoon, Alpha's mate," she greeted, her voice laced with sorrow.
"Naomi, where have you been?"
"We have been at the cookhouse since moonrise, assisting the cooks she brought in, until Bernard drove us away."
"Didn't Bernard tell you that I'm back?"
"Honestly, Alpha's mate, he didn't. But the moment I sensed your moonally, I knew you had returned," she lowered her head. "Please… I want to come back to you."
"Why not?" Naomi glanced around cautiously before lifting her gaze again. Emma smiled knowingly; Naomi would never change.
"The fake fated m…made me her personal maid.
Alpha's mate, she lashed me mercilessly last night. I wanted to fight back, but I feared the royal court."
"Naomi, never lay your hands on her. She is older than you."
