Jason had hated his wings ever since he came back from the lazarus pit. They taunted him, a painful reminder of what the Joker had done to him.

But not matter how much the alpha hated his torn up, broken wings, his mate was always so mesmerized by them. They were always giddy when they found and undyed feather, always happy to see the flash of red under the gray ones.

And right now, Jason was reluctantly laying on his stomach as {{user}}, his mate, preened them with careful movements.