Goodbye Alpha, Your Prisoner Is Now an Heiress

　　ELIAS'S POV

　　The gates of Moonfall prison shut behind me. I took a deep breath, and the air filled my lungs. I was free. For one day.

　　Just a single, graciously granted day of mercy to visit my dying grandmother.

　　The prison grey cloth clung to me, but I couldn't let Grandma see me like this. It would break what was left of her heart. I had to go home first to change and look normal for Grandma.

　　The Blackthorn pack was quiet when I walked in through the servant's entrance. It felt like I was walking into a museum of a life I'd never really lived.

　　I didn't expect him to be there.

　　My Hudband Damien stood by the window in our, his, bedroom, with his back to me, a phone pressed to his ear. He was back from an overseas business trip, according to what I had heard the guards muttered. Of course. The Alpha's world didn't stop for a mate in prison but I gave up everything for him.

　　When Damien got poisoned, the seer said it was only his mate who could save him. But Seraphina was nowhere to be found, she was kidnapped by some rogues and I stepped in for the sake of my grandmother, saving his life, just like I did seven years ago.

　　I didn't tell him though, he didn't need to know what I did all those years ago. I just wanted a chance with him.

　　I thought he'd look at me. Perhaps my sacrifice would make him reciprocate my feelings, but no. He treated me like a criminal and wanted to end things but only stopped when he found out I had a rare blood type that could heal his precious little mate, Seraphina.

　　He ended the call and turned, his cold eyes sweeping over me from head to toe like an assessment.

　　"Elias," he said. His voice was flat.

　　"Damien." My own voice was raspy and barely above a whisper. "I'm just here to change. I'm going to see my grandmother."

　　He didn't move. The space between us was filled with a tension that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with power. He had it. I had none. He crossed the room in three strides, and his hand closed around my upper arm.

　　"You look different," he stated, his thumb brushing over the too-prominent bone. He wasn't seeing me, he was seeing the effects of his choices, of the prison food, of the blood his mate had drained from me for Seraphina.

　　"Let go. I need to go." I tried to pull away, but his grip was iron.

　　His other hand came up to my face, turning it toward the light. I flinched. I couldn't help it. His touch didn't feel like a lover's touch, it felt like an owner's. "You're my mate," he said, as if reminding us both of a distasteful fact. "I've been away for some time."

　　It wasn't an invitation, it was a demand. He leaned in and what followed wasn't lovemaking. It wasn't even passion. It felt like a silent transaction.

　　Afterwards, he got up without a word. As he fastened his cufflinks, his eyes flicked to the heap of grey prison cloth on the floor. "I'll have my assistant send you a new bag," he said, his tone as casual as if he were ordering lunch. "Something suitable."

　　The words hung in the air, toxic and clear.

　　I felt the fragile wall I'd built around myself in prison begin to crash. I wasn't a person. I was a vessel he used, then paid off with accessories. Pushing myself up on trembling arms, the words came out before I could stop myself. "Come with me to the hospital. Please."

　　He finally looked at me fully, a faint frown of annoyance creasing his brow. He walked to the dresser, pulled out a sleek black credit card, and tossed it on the bed beside me. It landed silently. "I'm busy this afternoon. Go by yourself."

　　He left then and the door clicked shut.

　　I made it to the hospital on autopilot. The world outside the car window felt like a blur.

　　Her room was at the end of the hallway. The scent of antiseptic and decay hit me the moment I stepped in.

　　Gran was a small, shrunken figure against the white pillows. A ventilator tube was taped to her mouth and a monitor beeped beside her.

　　The cold dread that had been constant for a year solidified into a block of ice in my chest. I moved to her side, my legs stiff.

　　"Gran?" I whispered, my voice breaking.

　　Her eyelids fluttered. She turned her head, just a bit, and her eyes found mine. They were filled with pain, but the love in them was clear. She stretched her thin, trembling hand from under the sheet and I took it, folding her fragile fingers in mine. They were so cold.

　　"Eli… baby," she breathed hoarsely around the tube. "You came."

　　Tears blurred my vision. "I'm here, Gran. I'm right here."

　　"Can't… can't bear to leave you." Each word felt like it took her a lot of strength and a tear gathered around her eyes. "All alone."

　　"You're not leaving. Don't say that." The plea was childish, and useless.

　　With a strength that shocked me, her other hand moved, fumbling under her pillow. She pulled out a small, heavy object and pressed it into my palm. It was warm from her skin.

　　It was a pendant. A simple, elegant crest I didn't recognize.

　　"The key…" she gasped, her grip tightening. "To who you are… Your true…"

　　I felt unease settle in my gut. My entire life, the humble childhood, and the feeling of never quite fitting in rushed back to my memory.

　　The door to the room burst open and my heart, for one foolish second, leapt.

　　It was Damien.

　　He stood in the doorway, his frame blocking the door. He wasn't alone. His Beta, Kael, stood rigid behind him. Damien's eyes scanned the room, skipping over my grandmother's struggling form, and locked onto me.

　　That hope was shattered.

　　"Seraphina is losing blood," he said, his voice cutting through the ventilator's noise. No greeting and no acknowledgement of my grandmother dying in the bed either. "She needs a transfusion. Now."

　　The world stopped.

　　"No." The word came out as a whisper. I tightened my hand around the pendant. "Not now. Can't you see? Please."

　　He didn't even argue. He stepped into the room, filling it with his presence. "It's not a request, Elias." He reached for my free arm, his fingers closing just above the elbow, exactly where the IV would go.

　　My grandmother made a frantic, gurgling sound. Her eyes were wide, fixed on me, pleading. Her mouth worked around the tube, trying to form words. My name. She was trying to say my name.

　　"Gran, wait, I—"

　　But Damien was pulling. His grip was strong. He pulled me from my chair, and from her cold fingers.

　　"Elias!" Gran's cry was hoarse and desperate to get me back but didn't let me look back.

　　The clinic in the pack's medical wing was cold. I was silent as they prepared me and watched quietly as the needle slid into my vein and drained blood out of me, not caring if I had enough for myself.

　　Seraphina. The name in my head.

　　With each millilitre they took, I felt weaker and colder. The world began to blur but they didn't care. When it was done, they removed the needle, pressed a cotton ball to the crook of my arm, and left me sitting on the edge of the bed, swaying.

　　Damien was gone, of course. Back to Seraphina's side, no doubt.

　　It took me ten minutes to gather enough strength to stand. I shuffled out, past nurses who wouldn't meet my eyes, and back into the main hospital, ignoring my spinning head and trembling legs.

　　I pushed the door open.

　　The room was quiet, the ventilator was silent and the monitor screen was dark.

　　A white sheet was draped over the bed, covering the small, still shape completely.

　　The lump in my chest exploded. The air left my lungs and my legs gave out, and I collapsed to my knees beside the bed, a raw cry tore from my throat.

　　I wasn't here. I didn't hear her final words and I wasn't by her side.

　　I grabbed the edge of the sheet but I didn't have the strength to pull it back. I just clutched the fabric, my knuckles white, and my body shook with silent sobs.

　　A shadow fell over me. I didn't need to look up. I knew the scent of him, it used to make my heart race, now it just made the void inside me widen.

　　"My condolences." His voice was calm and cold.

　　I couldn't speak, I couldn't form words.

　　He continued, his tone businesslike. "Seraphina is out of danger. The transfusion was successful." He paused, as if waiting for my gratitude. When none came, he delivered the final blow. "Also, the prison warden called. Your time is over. It's time for you to go back."