Alana's POV
I almost pited him, but I refuse to pity him. I won't. Not after everything he's done, not after everything he's taken from me. He's a monster, a cold-hearted killer who wears the face of a man I once thought I knew.
I've spent too much time analyzing him, looking for some trace of a good person, the man I rescued who was sweet and light hearted but I've come to the painful conclusion that he's gone. Pack is gone, replaced by someone else. A ruthless, heartless stranger.
His actions speak for themselves. The blood of my parents stains his hands. The fear in the eyes of the pack, the way they tremble under his gaze, those are his doing. No amount of weakness in his expression or brief moments of hesitation will change that. He's evil. That's the only word for it. And I refuse to let myself fall into the trap of believing otherwise.
I still see the cracks in his mask, but those cracks don't matter anymore. They don't make him any less dangerous.
