KYLE POV
I didn’t sleep for s**t.
Not because of what my mother said—though, yeah, that always rattled me a little more than I’d ever admit out loud—but because every time I closed my damn eyes, I saw her.
Kathleen.
Olive green eyes lit up with fire. Lips that i wanted to bite so damn much.
That messy ponytail, her musical voice, the way she moved—fidget with her fingers, almost shyly, and clenched her jaw, so damn fierce.
And that fruity scent under the sweetness of the orange blossoms —
Fu.ck.
I was so damn obsessed even without Echo screaming mine.
We’d stayed up too late after our mother left, sprawled across the our office with half a bottle of whiskey between us and too many questions hanging in the air.
None of our wolves had claimed her.
Not one.
That should’ve been
