~Damon~
I had always wanted my Luna to be someone like my mother. Someone that cared about my pack and the members of my pack. Watching Aria care for the girl that camped in front of my gate brought back memories of watching my mother care for the pack members.
But when I remember that no matter how perfect she may seem, I could never accept her, my chest tightened.
I gulped down the last of my whiskey and tried to shake off the images of her face that wouldn't stop bombarding my head ever since we returned from the pack tailor. It burnt my throat and stung my eyes as I wanted but the images of Aria still wouldn't leave my brain.
“Fụck,” I groaned. I wished she didn't have to be in cohort with my uncle.
Would things have been different?
If she wasn't the arrow aimed at my throat,
