The Innocent Traitor: Dying for the Alpha's Sin

Ericka POV:

I woke up in the hospital again. My body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. The monitor beside me beeped erratically.

The door opened, and Hailie walked in. No Caleb this time. Just her.

She walked to my bedside and leaned close. "You're hard to kill, aren't you?"

"Why..." I croaked. My throat was raw from the Wolfsbane.

"Because you're in the way," she whispered. She reached out and pressed her thumb directly onto the burn wound on my arm from the silver water.

She dug her nail in.

"AHHH!" I screamed, instinctively shoving her away. I was weak, but adrenaline gave me a moment of strength.

Hailie threw herself backward, crashing into the medical tray. "Help! She's attacking me!"

The door flew open. Caleb. Of course.

He saw Hailie on the floor, surrounded by scattered instruments, and me with my arm outstretched.

"Enough!" Caleb roared. The windows rattled.

He marched over to me, ripped the IV line out of my arm-blood spurted onto the sheets-and yanked me out of bed.

"I am done with your tantrums, Ericka. I am done with your jealousy."

"Caleb, she hurt me! Look at my arm!"

"Silence!" Use of the Alpha Command again. My jaw snapped shut.

He dragged me barefoot through the hospital corridors, out the back exit, and into the woods. He didn't stop until we reached the Ancestors' Tomb.

It was a sacred place, a circle of ancient stone markers where the past Alphas were buried. The ground was covered in sharp white gravel.

"Kneel," he commanded.

My knees hit the sharp stones. I cried out as the jagged edges sliced into my already damaged skin.

"You have disgraced this pack," Caleb said, his voice echoing in the silent graveyard. "You have dishonored your ancestors. You will stay here, on your knees, and beg for their forgiveness until the moon is high."

"Caleb, please... it's cold..." I was wearing only a thin hospital gown. The wind was biting.

"Then freeze," he said coldly. "Maybe the cold will kill the rot inside you."

He turned and left me there. Alone.

I knelt there for hours. The sun set, and the temperature dropped. My knees were a bloody mess, the gravel embedded in my flesh. I shivered so hard my teeth chattered.

I looked at the graves of the great Alphas. They seemed to judge me, too.

I tried, I told them silently. I gave my wolf to save the Beta. I loved my Alpha. I did everything right.

But it didn't matter.

When the moon finally rose, high and full, I couldn't feel my legs anymore. I dragged myself across the gravel, leaving a trail of blood, toward the edge of the cemetery where the old Groundskeeper lived.

The old man, a human who knew nothing of pack politics, looked at me with horror.

"Child! What happened?"

I pulled a crumpled wad of cash from my pocket-money I had hidden in my shoe, the only thing I had left.

"Please," I whispered, my lips blue. "I need to buy something."

"Hospital? Ambulance?"

"No," I shook my head, pressing the money into his hand. "A stone. A blank tombstone."

"What for?"

I looked back at the imposing Pack House in the distance, where lights were on, where Caleb was probably warm and with Hailie.

"For me," I said. "I need it ready by tomorrow."

Because I knew. I could feel the silver in my veins, the wolfsbane in my lungs, and the broken heart in my chest. I wasn't going to survive another week. And I refused to be buried in an unmarked grave like a rogue. I would bury myself.