Chapter 2: Surprising Return
1631 Words
Zenesha
The next day.
“Zenesha?”
His voice cracked like a whip across the grand foyer.
I didn’t pause. Just kept walking with the same calm stride, my heels clicking softly against the tiles like a metronome ticking down the seconds of his comfortable little life. The shock in his eyes? Exactly what I’d rehearsed. The tremor in his voice? Delicious.
“Miss me, Alpha?” I said smoothly, tilting my head ever so slightly. I wore my control like a second skin—cool, polished, unreadable.
Wallace stood frozen near the base of the staircase, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair tousled like he’d rolled out of someone’s bed.
He had.
Damn it!
He blinked rapidly, looking past me like he expected the ghosts of his lies to come marching in behind. “You—you’re supposed to be in the North. The council said your mission was still ongoing.”
I almost laughed.
They had no idea what that mission had turned into, what I’d turned into.
Instead, I set down my coat on the banister and ran a slow gaze around the house. Our house, once upon a time. It still smelled like cinnamon and aged leather. Still carried the faint scent of my old perfume lingering on the walls—ghosts he probably tried to scrub out.
“I finished early,” I replied, each word sounding calm and measured, hiding the storm roaring just beneath. “I thought I’d come home. Surprise!”
He moved toward me with a forced smile, the calculating flicker in his eyes too quick for anyone else to notice—but of course I did.
“You should’ve told someone. I would’ve come to pick you up,” he said.
Liar! What an asshole!
I tilted my head, watching him squirm under the weight of my silence. “And interrupt the peace you’ve been enjoying? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
This was the first act. The bait. He needed to believe I was still the same Zenesha—the quiet, obedient one, eager to please. The one he’d underestimated.
“I heard what you said earlier, by the way,” I added, letting the words fall gently, as if they weren’t edged with the sharpness of truth. His brow twitched, just enough for me to know I’d hit the nerve. “I was surprised. You always said you were proud of me. That I made the pack stronger.”
His lips parted, panic flickering in his expression for just a beat. “Zene, I—”
“But you’re right,” I cut in smoothly, stepping past him like he was just another pillar in the mansion. “I’ve been gone a long time. A lot has changed.”
He reached for my wrist, hesitated, and let his hand drop.
“Where did you go, really?” he asked quietly, his voice suddenly softer. “What did they send you to do?”
I turned my head slightly, offering the faintest smile. “You’ll find out. Soon.”
I walked deeper into the house like I’d never left. Like, I still belonged here. Maybe I did. Perhaps I didn’t.
“Kitchen still stocked with coffee?” I asked casually over my shoulder.
Wallace followed, slow, unsure, like he wasn’t sure what to do. “Uh, yeah. There should be some of your blend still in the pantry.”
“Of course there is,” I murmured, half to myself.
I pushed open the kitchen door, letting the warmth and familiarity of the space wash over me. Same deep mahogany cabinets. Same clinking sound from the leaky faucet that no one ever fixed. The light over the island still flickered for a second before turning on, like it needed time to wake up.
He stood awkwardly by the doorway as I opened the cabinet, found the coffee tin, and started prepping like muscle memory had never left me.
“So,” I said, breaking the quiet, “how’s the pack been?”
He blinked. “The pack?”
“Mm-hmm. You know. The thing we swore to protect? That.” I didn’t bother looking at him, just measured out the grounds like I wasn’t fishing for buried bones.
“It’s… good,” he said slowly. “There’s been peace. A few small border issues with the eastern clans, but nothing serious.”
“Anyone step up while I was gone?” I asked, watching the water boil, pretending like his words didn’t already sound sanitized.
“A few tried.” His tone shifted, that old authority creeping back in. “But no one’s quite filled your shoes.”
I turned, giving him a look. “Is that a compliment or a complaint?”
He shrugged. “Both.”
The kettle whistled just then, giving him an excuse to fall quiet. I poured, the scent of coffee wrapping around us like a memory. I handed him a cup before pouring my own, then leaned back against the counter.
“No major disputes? No challenges to the hierarchy?”
“A few murmurs,” he admitted. “But nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Mm.” I sipped. “That’s lucky. You always did prefer things… tidy.”
He winced slightly at my tone, but I kept my face neutral. I didn’t want a fight. Not yet. This wasn’t about fire and fury. This was about gathering facts.
“And the young wolves? How are the trainees coming along?”
“Better,” he said. “Cayden’s taken over most of their drills. He’s got potential.”
“Cayden?” That surprised me. “The one who couldn’t shift until sixteen?”
Wallace chuckled, just a little. “He grew up. Got confident.”
“Confidence is good,” I said, swirling the coffee in my mug. “So long as it’s not mistaken for wisdom.”
He looked at me then, long and steady. “Why does it sound like you don’t trust what I’m telling you?”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Because you’re telling me just enough.”
A pause. Heavy.
“You came back different,” he said quietly.
“I came back honest,” I replied. “Something this place has been starving for.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It was... revealing like two people trying to figure out who blinked first after the mask slipped.
I finished my coffee in one long sip and set the mug down with a soft clink.
“Well,” I said, stretching slightly, “I guess I’ll take a walk around and see what else has changed.”
“You want me to come with you?” he offered.
I didn’t look back. “No. I'm good.”
Before I turned around, I caught a glimpse of Deidre gliding past the far archway, moving like she thought I wouldn’t notice. But I did. Of course I did. The scent of her perfume hit me before her face did—something sugary and sharp, like overripe fruit trying to pass as something fresh.
I didn’t even flinch. Just lifted my chin slightly and spoke in that same smooth, almost bored tone.
“Ah, you’re here, Deidre.”
The click of her heels stopped. I could practically hear the moment her throat went dry.
Wallace shifted beside me. I didn’t bother looking at him either.
She stepped into view slowly, all polished smiles and wide, innocent eyes. Dressed a little too carefully for someone who wasn’t expecting me. Her blouse looked new. Her lipstick was the same shade I used to wear.
“Zenesha,” she said, that breathy voice of hers a little too light, a little too controlled. “I didn’t know you were—back.”
“Clearly,” I replied with a small smile, tilting my head as I scanned her from head to toe. “But it’s sweet how you dressed up. For breakfast, no less. This house always did have a way of inspiring good taste.”
She blinked. “I—I was just passing through.”
“Oh? Still living down the road with your aunt?” I asked, sipping my coffee slowly. “Or are you staying closer these days?”
Wallace cleared his throat beside me like he wanted to interrupt. He didn’t. Smart move.
“I help out,” she said with a stiff little nod. “Sometimes the pack needs an extra hand. I pitch in where I can.”
“How noble of you,” I said with a glint in my eyes. “Always ready to lend a hand. Or… slip into an empty space, when no one’s looking.”
She flinched—just the tiniest twitch in her cheek—but I caught it.
“Would you like some coffee, Deidre?” I offered, crossing the kitchen slowly to grab another cup. “Or are you more of a tea-and-whispers kind of girl these days?”
“I—no thank you,” she muttered.
“Suit yourself.” I poured anyway, and the sound of liquid hitting ceramic was loud in the silence.
She took a breath like she was about to say something, maybe explain, maybe lie.
I didn’t give her the chance.
“Well,” I said, turning just enough to glance between the two of them, “you both seem well-fed. The house smells the same. Pack’s running. So many things are holding up just fine without me.”
Then I set the mug down on the island and turned my full attention to Deidre.
“But don’t get too comfortable. I’m not here to relive the past. I’m here to reclaim what’s mine.”
She paled.
And I smiled.
- Writer
