---- Chapter 8 He'd never imagined that Aria's 'death' would make him personally destroy the 'perfect revenge' he'd looked forward to for six years. But when that overwhelming panic and regret washed over him like a tsunami, he couldn't care about anything else. Marcus looked at him, seeing how crazed he was, sighed deeply, and knocked on the car window. The window slowly rolled down, and Marcus's voice, tired and helpless, came through: "Your feelings for Aria, was it really just about revenge? Connor, maybe you're too close to see it, maybe you haven't even realized it yourself. Your feelings for Aria probably stopped being just about using her for revenge a long time ago." "From the first time you stood up to the elders for her, the first time you stayed up all night by her bedside releasing your Alpha scent to soothe her ---- when she was sick, the first time you almost lost control and tore up the training ground when she got hurt... how much you cared about her, without even realizing it, had long surpassed your so- called 'revenge plan.'" "Think about it carefully. If Aria had really shown up at the ceremony today, wearing that simple white dress you picked out for her, the one that symbolized submission, and you saw those videos you'd prepared to humiliate her... could you really have brought yourself to press play?" "You rushed into uniting with Elena to prove your 'rationality' to everyone, and to yourself, because you didn't want to admit you'd actually fallen for a 'traitor's daughter,' to suppress those Alpha instincts you weren't supposed to have. You can fool everyone else, Connor, but you can't fool your own heart." "As your friend, I'll tell you one last thing. Stop letting that so-called hatred blind you. The truth ---- about your mother's death back then, and how Aria's mother was involved, only your father, the former Alpha, knows best. You should go ask him." With that, Marcus silently stepped back, clearing the way for him. Connor slammed on the gas. The car roared and shot off like a streak of light. But Marcus's words echoed in his chaotic mind like a spell. He asked himself, if Aria had really been at the Marking ceremony today, meekly waiting for his ' judgment,' could he really have coldly and ruthlessly pushed her into an abyss of no return, just like he'd planned? The answer, really, had always been in his heart. He'd just been so consumed by the poisonous flames of hatred that he was unwilling, and afraid, to see it clearly.