After My Mate Sent Me to Prison

Because my parents had caused the death of Carter’s parents, I was thrown into a werewolf prison to atone for their sins.

After four years of brutal punishment, I finally learned what obedience meant.

When I was released, Carter came to pick me up—with his pregnant mistress beside him.

“Mia, didn’t you work in a hospital before?” Carter said casually. “From now on, you’ll be Amelia’s personal postpartum doula.”

“This is what your parents owe me. I should have had a complete family.”

I nodded obediently.

…

“Mia, why didn’t you insist on coming to dinner with us last night?”

After hearing Carter’s question, I calmly picked up the clothes scattered on the bedroom floor and tossed them into the washing machine.

“I don’t like French food.”

He stared at me, suspicion flickering in his eyes.

I went downstairs and placed Amelia’s daily nutrition meal into the microwave.

Carter followed behind me, watching every move.

“Mia,” he said coldly, “drop whatever little schemes you’re thinking about. If you take your resentment out on Amelia, I won’t forgive you.”

I raised my head slightly but said nothing.

Four years in werewolf prison had already taught me how to submit.

Before I could say anything, I noticed Amelia standing outside the kitchen door, her expression openly smug.

She hurried forward, her baby bump leading the way, and threw herself into Carter’s arms.

“I’m done washing up.”

“When I was showering earlier, the pup kicked me.”

Carter froze for a second, his gaze landing on me absentmindedly.

I smiled naturally. “Congratulations, Luna. The pup must be greeting you.”

But a chill suddenly settled around Carter.

I didn’t have time to think about what he was feeling. The microwave dinged. The meal was ready.

I put on gloves and carried it carefully to the table.

Amelia sat beside Carter and hooked her finger into his collar, kissing his lips.

The moment their eyes met, the smile on Carter’s face vanished. And a mix of emotions flickered across his face. I placed the perfectly warmed meal in front of Amelia. She smiled at me as if we were chatting casually.

“Mia, have my roses bloomed yet?”

I paused for a moment. “Three flowers opened today.”

Amelia immediately hugged Carter’s arm and whined playfully.

“Mia really is the best postpartum doula I’ve ever seen. My roses never survive more than three weeks when I take care of them.” “You should reward her.”

I knew exactly what she meant. It was a warning. A reminder not to forget my place.

Before this, Carter had once brought me a slice of cake they had left over.

Because of that, Amelia deliberately complained that the upstairs garden looked empty. She forced me to plant one hundred pots of flowers under the blazing sun.

No hat. No shade. Just a thin cotton T-shirt and shorts.

After I finished, my skin was burned bright red, peeling in large patches.

After finishing her meal, Amelia suddenly said excitedly,

“Why don’t we give those three roses to Mia? She must love flowers.”

Carter glanced up at me, didn’t say anything, and just went along with Amelia’s suggestion.

“Hurry, go cut them for me,” she ordered.

I misunderstood her intention. Putting on my gloves, I grabbed a pair of scissors and walked into the garden. I had just cut the first rose when Amelia suddenly screamed.

“Mia! If you don’t like roses, you can tell me!” “I saved the best roses just for you!”

“That’s a rare species. How could you cut it with scissors?!”

Carter looked over from the distance.

My heart jumped violently. Panicking, I threw away both the gloves and the scissors and grabbed the remaining roses with my bare hands.

The thorns dug deep into my palms.

“Thank you for your gift, Luna.”

Carter rushed over and tried to pry my hand open.

“Let go! Let go right now!”