Serena watched as Darius tensed. He pulled his legs closer, keeping his gaze on the flame. Serena figured it was a question that poked at him, but if she wasn't forward, then all her questions would remain unanswered.
Darius ran his hand along the book's edge before he looked at Serena again.
"They died," he said evenly, his voice flat. "We've been over this."
Serena hummed in acknowledgment, her eyes dropping to the cover of the book. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap and thought of her next words.
Livia had said Darius was cursed with the same fate that took his parents. Werewolves lived long lives, longer than humans. Darius shouldn't have been Alpha so young- not unless Magnus Hawthorne had died unexpectedly.
It was convenient on Darius' part to have his father die so early on. Being the head of a pack came with its ups and downs, but it was a respectable role. Its downs far outweighed the ups, especially in a pack such as this one.
