Willow's feet ached as she made her way through the pack house corridors, having just finished scrubbing the kitchen floors for the third time that day.
The head cook had been in a particularly foul mood, finding fault with everything and making the servants re-do tasks that were already perfectly completed.
But even the physical exhaustion couldn't distract her from the heaviness in her chest that had been growing all day.
She had caught glimpses of Dorian throughout her work.
Once in the morning when she was carrying fresh linens past his study, again during lunch when he strode through the main hall with several pack officials, and finally just an hour ago when she was cleaning the windows in the corridor outside the meeting room.
Each time, her heart had leaped into her throat, her body automatically responding to his presence with a mixture of longing and nervous energy.
But he hadn't looked at her. Not once.
