Evaline:
The soft click of the door echoed behind me as I twisted the lock and leaned against the polished wood, finally alone.
I turned away and walked toward the couches, brushing my fingers over the torn wraps from earlier. I gathered the mess into a bag, smiling to myself at the memory of the beautiful and thoughtful presents I had received from my friends.
With the room tidied and the chaos of wrapping paper cleared, I turned back to the remaining three boxes sitting atop the low table. My hand hovered over them before settling on the biggest one to the left. It had sleek, matte black paper with a red velvet ribbon tied in a clean bow. No tag. No name.
But I didn't need one.
As I lifted the extremely heavy box into my lap, the faintest trace of spicy sandalwood and black amber met my nose. It was Draven's favorite perfume - rich, subtle, grounding. I could recognize it in my sleep.
