KIERAN’S POV
I came here to pick up Daniel’s sneakers that he’d forgotten.
It didn’t matter that he’d packed six other pairs and couldn’t even remember the exact color.
All that mattered was that my son needed his blue—or green or purple?—sneakers, and I'd be a terrible father if I didn’t do everything in my power to retrieve them for him.
I clung to that transparent, pathetic excuse as I unlocked the door with Daniel’s spare key and stepped into Sera’s house.
Her presence saturated the space. Scent. Warmth. Memory. It permeated the air, seeped into the walls, settled onto every surface, as if she had only just stepped out of the room.
It enveloped me the instant I crossed the threshold, thick enough to stir the bond and tighten something deep in my chest.
Ashar’s voice rumbled with aching yearning. ‘Her scent is everywhere. But I need more.’
“So do I,” I murmured.
