The Sinner's Return: Claimed By The Vengeful Alpha

Kira Hayes POV:

I stepped out of the prison doors. The harsh sunlight I hadn't seen in five years stabbed my eyes, making them water uncontrollably.

But the warmth on my skin brought a weak, trembling smile to my lips.

I looked at the towering pine trees outside the prison walls, the wild flowers blooming by the roadside, the butterflies dancing in the air. The world was so beautiful. I took a deep, greedy breath, terrified of missing the taste of fresh air.

I reached out a shaking hand to touch a wild flower, but quickly pulled back, afraid it was just another illusion. Finally, I plucked it and held it to my nose. It smelled like freedom.

I was finally out.

From the naive hope that someone would save me in the beginning, to the complete numbness at the end... I had endured it all. I was released a month early because the warden praised my relentless hard labor in the prison sweatshop. It was more than I deserved. I had no right to complain. I was guilty. If I were the victim's family, I wouldn't forgive myself either.

This was my penance.

I had asked the guards before leaving. Isabelle was still in the Pack's Medical Wing.

I felt I had to do something. So, clutching the few crumpled dollars I had earned from five years of bleeding fingers at the sewing machines, I bought a cheap fruit basket and walked toward the hospital.

As I entered the territory, pack members saw me. They didn't recognize me at first, but noticing my filthy rogue-like appearance, they scattered with disgust.

I kept my head down, shrinking inside my oversized, faded t-shirt, feeling every prick of their contempt.

Standing before the top-floor private suite, my heart pounded with anxiety. I gritted my teeth and pushed the door open.

Isabelle lay there, pale and motionless, hooked up to various monitors. She had undergone multiple skin grafts; though healed, the burn scars from the car explosion were still visible. Her mother, Eleanor, sat by the bed, looking haggard and wiping away tears.

I clutched the fruit basket, my knuckles white. My throat was so dry, and having barely spoken for five years, my voice came out as a raspy stutter. "Aunt... Aunt Eleanor..."

Eleanor turned around. When she recognized my face, her expression morphed into pure, unadulterated fury.

"You!" she shrieked, charging at me. "You ruined my daughter! How dare you show your face here!"

My legs gave out. I collapsed to my knees, bowing my head so low it almost touched the floor. "I'm... I'm sorry, Aunt Eleanor... I was wrong... I came to apologize..."

I clumsily held up the fruit basket. I was so naive. I used to be a spoiled Alpha's daughter who didn't care about anyone's feelings. I thought a sincere apology could earn a shred of forgiveness.

But Eleanor snatched the heavy basket and, with a scream of rage, smashed it directly into my head.

"You think a simple 'sorry' fixes this?!" she roared. "I will never forgive you! You should suffer everything my daughter suffered! Why are you out? Who pulled strings for you?! Why didn't you just die in that hole?!"

The impact knocked me to the cold tile floor. A wave of dizzying pain exploded in my skull.

Something warm and wet trickled down my forehead, blurring my vision. When I blinked, I saw red. Blood. The sharp wire from the basket had cut me deeply, and blood was pouring out relentlessly.

The loud commotion drew a crowd of nurses and pack members to the door. I lay there on the floor like a pathetic clown, surrounded by hatred and disgust.

I was no longer the proud girl who would be comforted over a tiny paper cut.

Swallowing my immense shame, I tried to wipe the blood from my eyes and slowly push myself up from the floor.

But as I did, a pair of impeccably polished, expensive leather shoes stopped right in front of my face.

The intoxicating, freezing scent of cedar hit my senses.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I looked up.