Kyra's POV
I gasped awake, my fingers digging into the sheets as I struggled to steady my breathing. My heart pounded like a trapped animal in my chest. The nightmare clung to me—the scent of blood, the gunshot, Kieran's eyes burning with feral rage.
"Sylvia," I whispered to my wolf, "the pup—"
"Our pup is safe," Sylvia growled, her voice a low hum in my mind. "But Kieran... he reeks of danger even when he plays protector."
"You're finally awake."
I jumped in shock and fear when I heard that voice. When I looked at the couch, I saw Kieran sitting there, staring at his Rubik's cube, his cedar and musk scent thick in the air. His devilish side replayed in my mind—how he shot that werewolf, his eyes showing nothing but rage and evil. I felt like he was a different person in that moment, as if the mask had finally been stripped away just because he saw me in that situation.
No hesitation. No mercy.
A killer's eyes.
