---- moment I saw him in that cage. But admitting it felt like dying myself. I spent three days preparing my son's body for burial. Pack tradition dictated that family members handle the funeral rites, but I was completely alone. Damon never came. I dug the grave myself in our family plot, my wounded hands reopening with each shovel of dirt. The physical pain was a welcome distraction from the emptiness in my chest. Other pack members watched from a distance but didn't approach. They whispered among themselves, but I caught enough words to understand. "Cursed..." "...brought this on herself..." "...should have known better than to threaten an Alpha's mistress..." ---- I carved his headstone with my own claws, spelling out his name and the dates of his short life. Five years. My precious boy had only lived five years. For two weeks after the burial, I moved through our house like a ghost. I couldn't bear to enter his room, couldn't face his toys or his tiny clothes. I barely ate, barely slept. Every night I replayed those final moments in my mind. If only I'd been stronger. If only I'd been faster at opening that cage. If only I'd never threatened Serena's children in the first place. The guilt was eating me alive from the inside. Then, without warning, Damon returned. He slammed through the front door like nothing had happened, tracking mud across the floors I'd once kept spotless for our family. "Aria!" His voice boomed through the house. " ---- Enough of this ridiculous sulking!" I looked up from where I sat curled in my son's favorite chair, still wearing the same bloodstained clothes from two weeks ago. "Ts this supposed to be some kind of performance? " Damon's eyes were cold as winter steel. "This pathetic grieving mother act?" Istared at him in disbelief. "Act?" "You brought this on yourself!" He pointed an accusing finger at me. "If you hadn't sent someone to kidnap Ethan and traumatize him, none of this would have happened!" "Kidnape" The word came out as a croak. "I never a "Don't lie to me! Ethan told me everything. How your people grabbed him and locked him in that dark closet. He's only six years old, Aria! The poor child can't sleep anymore. He wakes up screaming