Killian paced back and forth in his chamber, trying to steady the rush of blood pounding through his veins. The urge to go check on Isabella clawed at him and was very sharp and insistent. After their argument, he had forced himself to focus on work, but his mind refused to settle. Restlessness coiled tighter with each passing minute.
His wolf stirred uneasily, pushing against the edge of his control.
‘Go to her,’ the beast demanded. And truthfully, he wanted nothing more.
Lately, that gnawing anxiety struck him far too often, leaving him restless and on edge—just like it had in the morning when Isabella was attacked by rogues.
Clenching his jaw, he resisted the pull. He had already tightened the security around the pack house. Jack was stationed outside Isabella’s door; she was safe.
