---- Because you can't stand that I have other people in my life who actually matter?" "You like being the center of attention so much? You like crying and making scenes?" He gestured dismissively at my tear-stained face. ''Then go ahead! Cry all you want! See if anyone cares!" My throat closed up. How could I explain that these weren't tears of jealousy but of devastating loss? How could I make him understand that our son was gone forever? "You know what your problem is, Aria? You can't even raise a child properly. Look at yourself-on the floor like an animal, making those disgusting noises." Damon pulled Serena and her children closer, creating a perfect tableau of family happiness. "From now on, our son will be raised by Serena. At least she knows how to behave like a civilized person instead of some wild beast." ---- Our son. He kept talking about our son as if the boy was still alive. As if he hadn't died screaming in agony while his father played house with another woman. "Stop embarrassing me in front of my guests," Damon continued coldly. "This is their home now. " I looked around at what had once been our family home. The furniture I'd chosen, the pictures I'd hung, the warm colors I'd painted to make it welcoming for our son. Now it felt like a stranger's house. Everything was wrong. Everything was broken. And no one cared except me. I struggled to my feet, my legs shaky from emotional exhaustion. From the chain around my neck, I pulled out the small silver pendant that marked my identity within the pack hierarchy. Few people knew what it really meant. Even fewer ---- knew about the bloodline it represented. I moved to the desk in the corner and pulled out a piece of paper. My hands trembled as I picked up the pen. "Tam Aria Blackwood," I wrote carefully. "Elder Magnus, someone has murdered a Child of the Moon. The signs were there from birth-the silver eyes, the crescent birthmark, the unusual strength. My son carried the old blood, and now he is dead by silver poisoning in a cage of torment. " I paused, letting the full weight of those words sink in. The Council of Elders had been waiting decades for another Child of the Moon to be born. They believed such a child would bring great fortune to our people. Instead, that child had been killed by his own father out of jealousy and rage. "Justice must be served," I finished writing. ''The