KIERAN’S POV
Dinner was a blur.
Roasted lamb, golden brown and dripping with juices, filled my plate. Charred vegetables tossed in herbs added color and smoke. Laughter rose from every table and rang out, vibrant and wild.
Wine poured freely as the pack toasted Daniel’s name with the kind of roaring pride only wolves knew how to show.
Sera sat two seats away from me—close enough that the bond buzzed like a live wire beneath my skin, far enough that she didn’t have to look at me unless absolutely necessary.
I tried not to stare.
I failed. Miserably.
Every time she leaned in to laugh at something Maya whispered, every time the light caught in her hair, every time Daniel turned to her with a story or a grin, my gaze dragged back to her like a tide obeying the moon.
And she didn’t look at me once.
Not intentionally, anyway.
But I was blessed with accidental flicks of her gaze. And each one sent Ashar pacing behind my ribs, restless, agitated, wanting.
