Hailee’s POV
The pilot’s voice broke through the cabin speakers.
"Your Highness, we are preparing to land. Please remain seated until the aircraft has co to a complete stop."
My chest tightened at the title. It always sounded so heavy. The jet dipped lower, smooth and controlled, until the wheels touched the runway with a gentle thud. My fingers dug into the armrest, not from fear of flying, but from the reality waiting for outside.
The engines quieted, and a hush settled in the cabin. My pulse hamred as Peter unbuckled his belt and stood. The door hissed open, and the steps were lowered. A rush of cool night air swept inside, carrying with it the scent of rain-soaked tarmac.
I stood, smoothing down the simple navy dress I had chosen, and followed Peter toward the exit while Mother silently followed behind. My legs felt like lead as I descended the stairs, each step echoing like the toll of a bell.
And then I saw them.
A line of black cars stretched across the private strip, gleaming under the floodlights. Their tinted windows reflected the runway lights in sharp glimrs. Uniford n stood by every vehicle, their hands clasped behind their backs, their postures crisp and disciplined.
It wasn’t a welco for a girl returning ho. It was a reception for a title, a role, a bloodline.
I drew in a shaky breath, bitterness tugging at my lips. My voice ca out soft, almost mocking.
"See how they welco ... only if they knew what I have done."
Peter glanced at but said nothing. His silence was sharper than words, and I could tell he suspected sothing through the way he had been constantly staring at throughout the journey.
I lifted my chin, forcing myself to walk forward, though inside, every bone in my body scread to turn back. The cars waited. The n waited. The life I never chose waited. And there was no escape now.
As I approached the cars, the guards bowed respectfully to and greeted . Despite how hollow I felt, I gave them a nod and slid into the car I would be sharing with Peter, while Mother entered the other vehicle. As the car rolled toward ho, panic began to set in... My heart raced faster, and my palms grew slick with sweat. I knew the gravity of what I had done, and heaven only knows what awaited .
"Hailee." Peter suddenly called, drawing my attention to him.
I turned my head sideways, eting his gaze. His brows furrowed, and I noticed his eyes sweep slowly over . I swallowed hard, thankful the dress I wore was a turtleneck—at least the hickeys were hidden.
"Is there sothing you want to tell ?" Peter asked.
I frowned and looked away from him, trying my best to ignore his gaze.
Peter exhaled deeply. "I hope it’s not what I think, Hailee," he said in a worried, concerned tone. Obviously, he understood the weight of his suspicion.
I said nothing. My forehead rested lightly against the cool glass, and my eyes drank in everything—every tree, every stone, every curve of the land. Four years. Four long years, and nothing had changed. Yet everything inside had.
The closer we drew, the tighter the knot in my chest beca. This was ho, but it no longer felt like ho. It felt like a cage waiting with open arms.
The car slowed as the road widened, leading into the heart of the pack grounds. My gaze lifted and caught on the towering family buildings, familiar silhouettes against the moonlight. Windows glowed warmly, shadows shifting inside, and for a fleeting second, I was fourteen again—before everything shattered.
But the car didn’t stop. It kept moving, rolling steadily until it turned into the grand drive. My heart thundered. Ahead stood the packhouse—my ho, though it felt like it belonged to soone else now.
As we pulled in, I saw them. Staff lined up in two perfect rows along the path, their heads bowed in respect as the vehicles stopped. Their voices rose in unison, greeting , hailing , honoring a title that weighed heavier than chains.
The car door opened, and the night air swept over . My legs trembled as I stepped down, the sound of my heels echoing against the stone. My heart slamd in my chest as my eyes found them—standing apart from the others, waiting at the foot of the steps. They were dressed like the royalty they were.
Every muscle in my body went rigid. My eyes locked on theirs, and though my heart scread, my face betrayed nothing. Then, suddenly, she moved. Her face glowed with a smile, bright and polished, as though this were the happiest day of her life. But I couldn’t bring myself to return it. My expression remained flat, unreadable.
I rembered—four years ago, I had begged her to beg him not to send away. I had asked her to plead with him for any other punishnt... any punishnt but exile. But she had stood by his decision. She could have helped . If she had, my life wouldn’t have beco so complicated. I wouldn’t have t Nathan, or Callum, or Dane. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with any of them. Everything would have been so much easier.
She moved closer with graceful steps and gathered into her arms, the embrace soft, almost suffocating. Her perfu, subtle and expensive, threaded through the air, and beneath it lingered her wolf’s sll—rain, lilies, and sothing feral that once soothed but now suffocates .
"Welco back, my dear Hailee," she said sweetly, her voice polished and calm as she squeezed tighter, as if years of absence could be erased with a single embrace.
I swallowed hard, my throat aching with unshed words. Four long years without seeing her, and now, wrapped in her arms, she felt less like kin and more like a stranger. The perfu clung; the wolf scent pressed deeper, stirring instincts that recoiled.
Gulping hard, I forced the words past the lump in my throat.
"Good evening, Mother."
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