Derek swung the bedroom door open just as Kira stepped out of the bathroom, one towel wrapped around her body and another twisted through her damp hair. She stopped when she saw Derek, and he stopped when he saw her.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
He had barely looked at her properly since the chaos at Alpha Lucas' packhouse. He had come to bed beside her in the early hours, not to sleep but to anchor her, because he had not forgotten how shaken she had looked after the Umbra attack, and he did not trust that the nightmares would stay away. He had lain there stiff as a board in the dark, telling himself it was purely practical. That was the story, and he was sticking to it.
But now, in the soft morning light, with water droplets cascading onto her shoulders and her skin flushed from the shower, his beast, Leo, stirred and gave a low, rolling howl that vibrated through Derek's ribs.
