SERAPHINA’S POV
“What the hell?” I repeated, my voice tight as I stared in horror at the sight before me.
Kieran’s torso bore a deep, jagged scar that ran just below his ribs. A harsh, uneven gash that looked weeks old but was still angry red around the edges.
That wound should have healed. For a werewolf like Kieran, a born Alpha whose regeneration bordered on myth, something like that had no business lingering.
He yanked his shirt down before I could get a better look, but the image was already seared in my brain. “It’s nothing, Sera.”
“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t you dare tell me that—that awful mess is nothing.” My voice trembled, and I fought to get a hold on the emotions that surged within me.
His jaw clenched, the muscles ticking like he was chewing back something sharp. “I’m fine.”
