*Isla*
Poppy flutters around the sunny sitting room, moving from light filled window to window as she spins in a soft circle. Isaac is in her arms, and seems unphased by her attempts to get any type of reaction out of him.
So far, at only three days old, he is a quiet, amiable baby.
“He’s too young to really smile at you, Poppy,” I say from the floor where I’m sitting with my legs crossed. I look down at the paperwork littering the floor, my hand aching as I scribble my signature on something pertaining to a grocery order for the kitchen.
I hadn’t realized how much went into being an Alpha, let alone an Alpha King. Nor had I realized how much I was going to have to do as the Luna of all Lunas.
I place the signed paper on the pile of signed papers, which is sitting next to more pi
