Chapter 8. Your Hair... It’s Striking

Sherman POV

As Silvia descended the hospital steps, a current of electricity shot down my spine.

My wolf, Leo, stirred inside me, suddenly watchful.

There was something about her confident stride despite her obvious exhaustion that commanded attention—my attention, specifically.

I found myself studying her again: that wild, fiery red hair cascading down her back like liquid flame, those doe eyes with impossibly thick lashes, currently rimmed with red from crying.

Even dressed in what appeared to be funeral attire and clearly drained from her hospital vigil, she carried herself with an innate dignity.

It struck me that she looked nothing like her brother Noah.

Where he was dark-haired , she was fair with that remarkable auburn hair.

The knowledge that they weren’t blood relatives had always lingered in my mind.

A flash of possessiveness surged through me at the thought, surprising in its intensity.

Leo growled in agre