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 come 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 me outside.
The engines quieted, and a hush settled in the cabin. My pulse hammered 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 glimmers. Uniformed men stood by every vehicle, their hands clasped behind their backs, their postures crisp and disciplined.
It wasn’t a welcome for a girl returning home. It was a reception for a title, a role, a bloodline.
I drew in a shaky breath, bitterness tugging at my lips. My voice came out soft, almost mocking.
"See how they welcome me... only if they knew what I have done."
Peter glanced at me but said nothing. His silence was sharper than words, and I could tell he suspected something through the way he had been constantly staring at me throughout the journey.
I lifted my chin, forcing myself to walk forward, though inside, every bone in my body screamed to turn back. The cars waited. The men waited. The life I never chose waited. And there was no escape now.
As I approached the cars, the guards bowed respectfully to me and greeted me. 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 home, 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 me.
"Hailee." Peter suddenly called, drawing my attention to him.
I turned my head sideways, meeting his gaze. His brows furrowed, and I noticed his eyes sweep slowly over me. I swallowed hard, thankful the dress I wore was a turtleneck—at least the hickeys were hidden.
Every muscle in my body went rigid. My eyes locked on theirs, and though my heart screamed, 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 remembered—four years ago, I had begged her to beg him not to send me away. I had asked her to plead with him for any other punishment... any punishment but exile. But she had stood by his decision. She could have helped me. If she had, my life wouldn’t have become so complicated. I wouldn’t have met 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 me into her arms, the embrace soft, almost suffocating. Her perfume, subtle and expensive, threaded through the air, and beneath it lingered her wolf’s smell—rain, lilies, and something feral that once soothed me but now suffocates me.
"Welcome back, my dear Hailee," she said sweetly, her voice polished and calm as she squeezed me 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 perfume 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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