KAI POV
I’d already bled through three brothers and each time they'd let me win like it was charity. Kyle, Keegan, Kendrick — step aside, take a hit, make a face, then soften like they were protecting a porcelain doll. That was the part that ripped me open: the pretense. The condescending mercy.
I wanted to kick them all in the balls so hard they’d never give me nieces or nephews. But I didn’t. Because despite my rage, despite my wolf snarling for blood, I still loved them. And I wanted nieces and nephews.
Enough to hold back.
Now there was only one left.
Kingsley.
The last obstacle loomed — ropes like sinew, platforms that shifted under your feet, a pit of mud spiked with barbed wire. I crawled it like a woman with a purpose, each cut and bruise a promise; the sun was a bruise under
