In the silvery waterfall of moonlight, Jonathan Aztec, my second in command, holding rank as Beta of the Northridge pack, was something to behold. His powerful shoulders seemed to carry the waning gibbous, and the shadows that devoured the vast grounds of Battleridge manor granted him a wide berth.
He was a superior specimen. He was a male worthy of the ranking he'd been bestowed. But like all creatures, he wasn't born perfect, and his character flaw was a fault that bled out into the night like a severed artery: Concern.
It charged the air between us, a thick blanket that settled against the lungs like a boa-constrictor's loving embrace.
"What did you find?" I asked. The perverse silence that had entombed the dilapidated courtyard, screaming so loud it rang through my ears like a twisted lullaby, was shattered upon his approach. His boots smacked against the waterlogged ground, echoing in a way that spoke of his failures before he'd even opened his mouth. 
"Nothing,"
.......
"Until I can figure out what's going on, nobody finds out about the boy. Understand?"
"Understood."
"You're not going to ..." The pause that followed dragged out. "He's just a baby, Sterling."
"You're dismissed."

The Littlest Light

/"You were raised by a man so bitter and twisted that there was no room left in his heart for love, Star. The way he raised you, it wasn't right. And every child needs love. Every single one. To be denied that . . . you lashed out. You were angry. You can't scare me with your past. I know you too well. I understand you too well, and do you have any idea how hard it is to hate somebody once you truly understand them./"

Was he going to justify my every bad deed? I hadn't even told him what I had done to the kid. For all he knew, I could have left him an inch from death. I hadn't. A sharp rock to the side of the head, a concussion, stitches and a phobia of strange little feral children, he basically walked away unscathed.

But he didn't know that, but he still made excuses for me.

Chapter67