IVY's P.O.V.
I woke up the next morning, leaning up to look around, seeing that I was back in my old room. I was back in the palace. I was back at home. Home, or as I had called it throughout all of my life, my prison. But either way, being inside this prison, still felt better than being inside a pack, where I would be free, but constantly reminded of CJ. My own mate who hated me, my own mate that didn’t want me. That didn’t want me because of who my father is. As if it was my own fault that that man was partially responsible for me coming to this world. I never even got the chance to tell him how much I hated that man myself. How he had never in his life listened to me once, because he was always so caught up in his own business, his own plans and his own schemes. That besides the fact
