Aria's POV
He paused, his brow furrowing, voice low and strained with the effort of pulling the memory into focus. "He had a tattoo."
My pulse quickened. "A tattoo? Wolves don't usually—"
"I know. That's why I remember it." Damian's eyes snapped open.
"It was on his front leg, just above the paw. I remember seeing it when he lunged at me. The ink was still dark—fresh, maybe only a few weeks old."
"What did it look like? Can you describe it?"
"I don't..." He frowned, clearly trying to pull the image into sharp focus. "Hold on."
He reached for the notepad and pen sitting on the bedside table.
I watched as he sketched quickly, his hand moving with surprising confidence despite the injuries. The pen scratched against paper, lines forming and connecting in ways that ma
