Punished By The Alphas Before every hunt, I always took the time to reflect on my past. Call it a ritual, if you want. It felt cleansing to my soul, as if it somehow forgave some of my sins for the things that I had done…and the things that I continued to do. Letting the engine of my motorcycle thrum to a low idle, I kicked down the support and pulled at the light chain around my neck. I quickly tightened the fingerless, leather gloves over my hands before popping open the locket with a slip of my thumb. A fingertip from my free hand slid lovingly across the glass frame. It was the only picture of my parents that I had. I gazed upon my father, with his strong jawline and thick brunette hair, smiled a winning smile — while my mother laughed radiantly at something off-camera. They had been high school sweethearts, and this picture had been taken a few weeks before their graduation. They looked so young, so full of life. They wore the faces of people who had not a single care in the entire world.
