Kyra’s POV
The musky scent of cedar clung to the halls like a persistent reminder. Kieran had been avoiding me since the night he'd dragged me back from those kidnappers, his golden eyes cutting through me like I was prey before stalking away. A whole damn week without a single word. Not a single mind link, No accidental encounters in the house corridors,not even a glance in my direction during.
My wolf whined low, torn between gratitude for his protection and frustration at his distance.
“He thinks you fear him, ” Sylvia murmured, her ears flattening. “We need to fix this.”
I knew it was because I'd flinched when he reached for me last time - the memory of those kidnappers' claws and how Kieran shot them still too fresh. He couldn't blame me but I also couldn't help feeling guilty for making him feel that way after he saved me.
With a plan of making it up to him, I went downstairs one afternoon to cook for him.
