It's been three months. Three months since Devon died by my hands. Three months since I got arrested for the murder of the Alpha I had obsessed over, hated, and loved in equal measures. Three months since I'd been locked in Silvercrest Prison, and yet, it feels like yesterday.
The walls of this cell don't just close in, they also swallow me whole. At night, he visits. Always. I see him in the dark, his grey eyes boring into mine, unblinking, silent. I speak to him sometimes, the imaginary figure he has become my only companion.
"Do you miss me, Alpha?" I whisper to the shadows.
No answer, but I imagine his smirk anyway, the slow curl of those lips that could ruin a person with one look.
The other women in the block have started giving me strange looks. Some mutter about madness behind their hands. I smile at them, bare teeth, and tell them, "Only he and I understand each other. He made a promise to haunt me when I finally kill him, and he is keeping his promise."
