Kyra's POV
The morning sun filtered through the curtains as I woke, my wolf senses immediately picking up Kieran's lingering cedar-and-musk scent on the fresh clothes he'd left.
A sweet smile curved my lips as I read his note. Sylvia, my wolf, purred in approval. "Our mate provides well."
Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined the ruthless Alpha Kieran capable of such thoughtfulness, yet here we were.
After showering, I dressed quickly, my instincts driving me to check on my father. Even though his stroke had stolen his words, I needed him to hear mine. Too many days had passed with this rift between us; as his daughter, I owed him this reconciliation.
The kitchen should have smelled of breakfast, of Kieran's strong coffee and bacon. Instead, my nose wrinkled at Amanda's cloying perfume. There she sat—my father's third mate—draped in sexy red lingerie that would shame even an unmated she-wolf, sipping orange juice like some pampered queen while her Alpha lay ill upstairs.
