7 Years in Prison for My Mate—He Made Me Kneel

Seven years. Seven years of cold concrete walls and iron bars.

The Council transport vehicle lurched to a stop at the Shadowcrest Pack territory border, and I stepped out into the crisp morning air. My fingers instinctively found the silver chain around my neck—my mother's necklace, the only piece of her I had left. The only thing that had kept me sane through those endless nights in that cell.

The familiar scent of pine and earth filled my nostrils, but underneath it was something else. Something that made my chest tighten with a pain I'd tried to forget. Home. This was supposed to be home.

"Emerson Woods." Beta Derek Collins stood at the pack house entrance, his expression carved from stone. No warmth in his brown eyes, no hint of the man who used to ruffle my hair when I was young. "Alpha is waiting for you in the hall."

Not "welcome home." Not even a simple greeting. Just cold, professional duty.

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. The gravel crunched under my worn boots as I followed Derek up the familiar path. Pack members scattered like leaves in my wake, their whispers following me like shadows.

"Is that really her?"

"Seven years for murder..."

"I heard she killed her own father..."

Each word was a blade between my ribs, but I kept my spine straight. I'd learned to endure worse in that Council prison. Much worse.

The pack house doors loomed before me, heavy oak carved with the Shadowcrest wolf crest. Derek pushed them open, and the scent hit me like a physical blow.

Sterling's scent. Rich cedar and mountain air, the scent that had once meant safety, love, forever. Now it was tainted with something else—another wolf's scent intertwined with his.

I stepped into the great hall, and my world shattered all over again.

Sterling sat in the Alpha's chair, exactly where his father used to sit. But he was no longer the eighteen-year-old boy I'd left behind. Seven years had carved him into something harder, more dangerous. His dark hair was shorter now, his jaw sharper, his green eyes cold as winter frost.

But it wasn't Sterling that made my knees nearly buckle.

It was the woman beside him.

Arianna sat in the Luna's chair, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid fire. She wore a flowing blue dress that complemented her pale skin perfectly, and around her throat—branded into her throat—was Sterling's mark. Dark and possessive and permanent.

My best friend. My sister in everything but blood. The girl who had sworn we'd be each other's bridesmaids, who had held me when my mother died, who had promised to wait for me.

She was Sterling's Luna.

The mate bond in my chest roared to life, a silver fire that had been dormant for seven years suddenly blazing. My wolf stirred deep within me, recognizing her mate even as my heart crumbled to dust.

Sterling's eyes met mine across the hall, and I