Twenty-two

Alpha Hendrix stood still as he stared at the picture on his wall. The room was dimly lit. All the draperies were allowed to fall freely over the windows. He was clad in a big dark jacket and a pair of dark pants.

It was just him and the picture on the wall. It was a picture of his dead mate. The picture of the Luna of his pack. She seemed to have been lost in thought when the picture was taken.

Her eyes didn't seem to focus on the camera and there was no smile on her face. Instead, her eyes reflected all the thoughts in her emerald green eyes.

Her lips were parted slightly and her chestnut brown hair fell freely around her. She wore a strapless dress but the picture only stopped at her chest.

The beauty of the picture was the fact that she hadn't been trying so hard to look good. Instead, she had been lost in a different reality.

Yet the imperfection of the picture was exactly what made the picture perfect. Alpha Hendrix had always loved the picture. It was the one he had chosen to s