Miranda's POV
Slave.
The word rang out in my head and I was taken to the past, the first time I was called a slave. I was five years old then and didn't understand what it meant or why my father called me that.
"Father, what is a slave?" I had innocently asked.
"It's what you are. Don't call me father! You are no daughter of mine!" he spat out. "You killed the woman I loved!"
It didn't get better after that. Instead, it seemed like everything became worse, until, of course, he finally sold me to Alpha Colton.
It was the woman's laughter that brought me back to the present.
She was still very close to him. She said something and laughed, tilting her head such that her lips nearly brushed his ear.
And Colton. I glanced at him. Just moments earlier, he had been acting so nice to me, almost as though he wasn't the same person who had referred to me as a slave.
And now…
What was wrong with me?
I was a worthless slave, sold by my own father, wolfless too.
