‘He’s still the same man. Judging him just for being a werewolf would mean judging Zion as well.’

Zion would always be Zion in my eyes, my beloved son.

Aaron had a different story.

“You’re not alone.” I spoke, my eyes flickering from his lips up to meet his gaze: “I have thought about the kiss more than I should have, Aaron.”

He took a step closer, and I felt the heat coming off his body, and the hairs on my body rose on alert.

His hand lifted to my face, and my breath hung in my throat, but I didn’t pull away or push him off. To an extent,...