Kieran's POV
What the bloody hell is wrong with me?
I stumbled back a step, breath sharp, hands curling into fists at my sides. My entire body felt too hot, like my skin didn't fit right anymore. Like I was seconds away from either kissing her or ripping the whole damn room apart.
Her scent still clung to my skin, sweet and maddening. The lingering heat of her body beneath mine made my wolf restless, snarling in my chest, begging to reclaim what I'd just given up. I was losing control.
Lorraine Anderson.
A feral.
A girl who should've broken weeks ago, yet still stood upright with eyes that didn't know how to yield. She wasn't just surviving, she was fighting, thriving, and for some twisted reason, that lit a fire in me I couldn't put out.
She looked at me now, brows drawn together, concern flickering across her features. "Are you alright?"
No. I wasn't. I was anything but alright.
My wolf was going through a kind of heat I cannot fathom.
One I cannot understand.
