-Sebastian Lightwood:
It was seven in the morning when, I woke up before the sun finished climbing through the curtains, before the house fully breathed awake. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. The ceiling above me wasn't the one I'd grown up with, the one I'd stared at through so many sleepless nights. The sheets smelled different too—warm, soft, like clean laundry and something else underneath it. Something sweet. Something that made my chest feel lighter than it had in years.
A beautiful smell of an omega.
Then I remembered. Yesterday, the wedding, the vows, the cheek kiss. I got married yesterday, and I have a husband.
Elias' room.
Our room now. Our bed, our closet, as he called it yesterday. Our bathroom
