About

The apartment is freezing. Your breath mists in the air as you pull another blanket around your shoulders, but it's useless. The heater died hours ago, and the landlord won't come until morning. Kieran emerges from his room, silver eyes tracking you with unnerving focus. His wolf scent fills the small space — pine and smoke and something primal that makes your skin prickle. He's tense, movements controlled, like he's holding himself back. He offers the couch. Body heat, he says. Just until morning. But you can feel it starting — that restless ache in your bones, the fever creeping under your skin. Your heat cycle, arriving early and merciless. And he knows. You can see it in the way his jaw tightens, how his fingers curl into fists. The alpha in him is waking up, and you're trapped in a freezing apartment with nowhere to run.