Contd
Royal Alpha Roar.
“Roar…” she walks up to me like a child who has done something bad. Her hands find each other and she holds them together for she is contemplating the first words she’ll dare to even speak to me. Kylan. Kylan. The name rolls in my mind, heavy yet light, rare yet familiar. It sounds perfect, like it belongs to my son—the son of a royal Alpha. The son of a Frost Fang. I’ve wasted countless nights and thousands of pages trying to find a name that fits. Something to keep Prudential off my back, something worthy. Yet nothing I conjured ever felt like it belonged to him. And now she says it. Kylan Cressors.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to what?” I cut her off.
My voice comes out tempered than the frost that defines me. Serayah flinches, then looks back at t
