MALLERY'S POV
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"Mal," Jace's soft caring voice calls out my name as I sit on the couch, staring out of the big window over looking the pack. I have a bowl of grapes in my lap, my fingers picking them off the stem, but not one makes it to my mouth. I hum in response as I turn my head to face him as he sits beside me, eating his morning cereal. "What's on your mind?" He asks, swirling his spoon around. "Nothing," I smile half heartily, which probably shows because Jace's shoulders fall as he sighs, "I knew it would be too much," he shakes his head at me and the hole slammed into my chest with the way he looks at me makes me want to kill myself. "It's not, it's s lot, but not too much," I shrug. It's not supposed to be too much, because the man I killed wasn't my father, only the person w
