KALEL
Blood caked under my fingernails despite scrubbing them raw. The scent of my kills mingled with evidence of betrayal—my brother's arousal, Savannah's lingering desire, and Iowyn's winter frost signature. My wolf snarled beneath my skin, primal rage barely contained by human form.
I'd handled it with typical restraint—only killing two rogues instead of burning down the entire forest.
Savannah stood between us, chin raised defiantly even as uncertainty flickered across her face. The mark on her neck—my brother's claim—pulsed with fresh magic, scraping against my senses like nails on a chalkboard.
"You going to put on a shirt, or is the half-naked power move part of the tantrum aesthetic?"
Despite everything, I laughed. "You've got a mouth on you, little wolf."
Her eyes narrowed.
