Alpha's Regret, Begging My Convict Luna Back

One year ago, my Alpha mate personally threw me into the werewolf prison.

I was tortured until the beautiful Luna I once was completely fell apart.

What he never knew… was that I was carrying his pup.

A year later, when I finally walked out of that prison, the first thing I did was reject him—

and break our mate bond for good.

So why is he the one crying and begging me to forgive him now?

Aria's POV

They say freedom has a taste.

Mine tasted like blood and ash.

The iron gates of the werewolf prison shrieked open and I stumbled out in my ragged clothes, clutching my little pup in my arms, the only thing that mattered to me in this cruel world.

The cold hit like claws raking across my back, right over the half-healed lash marks. My wolf whimpered somewhere deep inside me, weak and battered. She used to be my strength. Now, she was as broken as I was.

I pulled Lana tighter against my chest, shielding her from the wind that howled like a mourning pack. She was the only warmth left in my world.

When the wind finally eased, I pulled back a corner of the worn blanket. My heart softened instantly.

"Lana," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "My sweet little pup."

She cooed softly, tiny lips puckering as her wide amber eyes blinked up at me, so innocent and pure. Her cheeks were soft and pink, a fragile bloom in a world that had gone gray.

Her tiny mouth opened, letting out a soft babble that melted my chest like sunlight through frost.

She didn't know she'd been born behind silver bars, in a cell that smelled of death.

She didn't know her father was the one who'd put me there.

A city bus screeched to a halt before us, its brakes hissing. I adjusted her carefully in my arms, wincing when the fabric scraped against the raw marks across my shoulder.

The guards used to say they were "reminding me of my place." One had shoved me into the silver cage and kicked me when I tried to shield my swollen belly.

I still heard the echo of his laughter sometimes when the night grew too quiet.

I climbed onto the bus, fumbling with the fare coins. My fingers were cracked and shaking.

The driver's eyes flicked toward me, just a second, but he looked away quickly. I bet he didn't know who I was, I wasn't surprised. I had become a shadow of myself, very unrecognizable. Spending long torturous months in prison would do that to you. Every bone in my body hurt; every step felt like walking through shards of glass.

I found a seat at the back, huddling into the corner as the engine groaned to life. My reflection in the window startled me. I had hollow eyes, a split lip, a scar running down my jaw.

Eighteen months ago, I used to be Luna Aria