Kyra's POV
The private jet's engines hummed softly as I stared out the window, the clouds below us mirroring the storm brewing in my chest. Kieran's cedar and musk scent filled the cabin, an intoxicating reminder of last night's confession that had my wolf spirit, Sylvia, pacing restlessly.
"Stop pretending you don't feel the pull," Sylvia huffed when I deliberately avoided looking at Kieran's broad shoulders straining against his tailored shirt. "His wolf has been calling to us since we boarded."
A sudden weight against my ear made me jump. Kieran had slipped an earbud in without asking, his fingers brushing my cheek with deliberate slowness.
Soft piano music filled my right ear as he leaned back, his ice-blue eyes glinting with satisfaction.
"Sleep," he commanded, his Alpha tone making my spine straighten instinctively. "I'll wake you for dinner."
