AARYN
For Aaryn, walking back into the Tree House alone felt like walking into a prison. When he slowly closed and latched the door behind him, he found it hard to breathe.
Turning back to the room, he reminded himself, he was not ten anymore. He was an adult. He could handle this.
His mother's prone form on the couch seemed too small. When had she shrunk? When had he gotten so much bigger than her?
When would she become a mother again?
He cursed himself at the thought. He was an adult—an Alpha. He didn't need to be mothered anymore. She'd been good for years, and never stopped loving him despite her own fear and struggle against the prejudice she faced first because most thought her dead mate was a traitor, and suspected it of her as well. And secondly because her only son was disformed.
His mother had faced much greater hardships in her life than he had. He needed to remember that.
