ARIA’S POV

My steps were slow, not because I was afraid, but because every step that brought me closer to the pack house was packed with memories.

Memories of how I arrived here in the first place, anticipating that it was going to be my worst nightmare. Memories of how for the first few months, it actually was, but I stayed because I had nowhere else to go.

I nursed the wounds of my father giving me away.

Years ago, coming here as a slave and then becoming his breeder. I would have killed just to not see him anywhere near me, but now I had two children for him...