** Aria’s POV **
Camera flashes explode like fireworks, documenting my breakdown. Every second of my anguish is captured, to be broadcast and consumed. I can smell the stench of sweat and perfume from the crowd pressing in. Reporters are livestreaming, their lenses feasting on me like an all you can eat buffet.
“This is horrific! Who would dare desecrate the Luna’s family memorial?”
“Where’s her mate? Shouldn’t Thorne be here comforting her?”
“Desecrating ancestral ashes… this disgrace demands blood!”
The reporters call out their outrage.
“Stop gawking and get a damn urn!” someone barks.
“Clear these parasites out now!” another shouts.
But the crowd doesn’t move. My grief is entertainment to them.
When Sandra arrives to contain the chaos, I barely react. My limbs are numb, my wolf
