She’s Coming Home
1181 Words
I'm coming home.
I read the words three times.
Then a fourth.
Then once more, just to make sure they hadn't changed.
They didn't.
The ink stayed exactly where Ashley had left it.
Neat.
Confident.
Certain.
The way everything about her seemed to be.
I lowered the letter slowly.
Mara's den felt strangely quiet.
Outside, Beaumont buzzed with excitement over the visiting packs.
Inside, all I could hear was the crackling fire.
And my own heartbeat.
Coming home.
Four years.
Ashley had been gone for four years.
Long enough that some of the younger pups barely remembered her face.
Long enough that the pack had turned her into something larger than life.
Long enough for me to forget what it felt like to share a room with her.
To hear her laugh from across the hall.
To argue over blankets on winter nights.
To have someone who looked exactly like me standing beside me.
Mara glanced up from the herbs she was sorting.
"You look like someone just announced the end of the world."
I handed her the letter.
She read the first line.
Then sighed.
"Oh."
I blinked.
"That's all you have to say?"
She folded the letter carefully.
"It explains a lot."
"Helpful."
"So I've been told."
Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitched.
Mara handed the letter back.
I dropped into the chair beside the window.
The old wood creaked beneath me.
Snow drifted lazily past the glass.
By the time Mara reached the end of the letter, her expression had softened.
"She sounds excited."
I stared out at the falling snow.
"She always sounds excited."
"That's not a crime."
"I didn't say it was."
Silence settled between us.
Comfortable.
The kind only years of knowing someone could create.
I could feel Mara watching me.
Waiting.
The problem with being around someone who truly saw you was that pretending became almost impossible.
"You miss her."
The words were quiet.
Gentle.
I swallowed hard.
"Yeah."
Because I did.
That was the hardest part.
If Ashley were cruel...
Everything would be easier.
If she ignored me.
If she looked down on me.
If she enjoyed standing in the spotlight while I disappeared into the background.
Then maybe I could be angry.
Maybe I could resent her.
But Ashley wasn't like that.
She wrote every month.
She remembered birthdays.
She asked about me.
She told stories about the places she'd visited and the wolves she'd met.
She loved me.
I never doubted that.
And somehow...
That made everything more complicated.
Because loving someone didn't stop me from disappearing behind them.
Mara folded the letter and handed it back.
"You're worried."
A humorless laugh escaped me.
"When am I not?"
One gray eyebrow lifted.
Fair enough.
I unfolded the letter again.
The parchment had already begun to soften around the edges.
Ashley always used too much ink.
Too many words.
Too much enthusiasm.
My eyes found the line that had been bothering me from the beginning.
Father is planning a gathering when I arrive.
My stomach tightened.
Of course he was.
The Alpha's daughter was returning home.
The celebrated daughter.
The admired daughter.
The daughter who made Beaumont proud.
The village would be decorated.
Children would race through the square.
Warriors would laugh.
Elders would tell stories.
The entire pack would celebrate Ashley's return.
I'd spent four years helping keep Beaumont running while she was away.
Somehow...
Coming home mattered more than staying.
The thought slipped into my mind before I could stop it.
Ugly.
Small.
I hated it immediately.
Ashley hadn't done anything wrong.
She deserved to come home to people who loved her.
So why did it hurt?
Because I'd been here the whole time.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
Mara rose to answer it.
A young warrior stepped inside.
Blood stained one sleeve of his uniform.
A shallow cut crossed his forehead.
Nothing life-threatening.
Mara's entire posture changed.
Questions.
Instructions.
Bandages.
Purpose.
I moved before she asked.
Fetching clean cloths.
Preparing salves.
Heating water.
Passing needles and thread.
The routine wrapped around me like an old blanket.
Comforting.
Predictable.
Safe.
One patient became two.
Then three.
The afternoon slipped quietly away.
Work always helped.
Work left little room for questions.
Little room for memories.
Little room for worrying.
Unfortunately...
Eventually, the work ended.
And the questions returned.
By evening, snow had begun falling again.
Large flakes drifted silently past the windows.
Lanterns glowed throughout Beaumont like scattered stars.
Beautiful.
Peaceful.
Almost enough to fool someone into believing life was simple.
I should have gone back to my room.
Instead...
My feet carried me toward the northern overlook.
Mara always called it my mother's place.
She never explained why.
The overlook sat above the village, near the edge of the forest.
Most wolves preferred the southern cliffs.
This place belonged to silence.
Which was probably why I loved it.
Snow crunched beneath my boots.
The cold burned my lungs.
I welcomed it.
The overlook was empty.
Good.
I wasn't ready for company.
The village stretched below me.
Lanterns shimmered against the snow like tiny stars scattered across the earth.
From this distance...
Everything looked peaceful.
Simple.
The illusion almost worked.
Almost.
I settled onto the fallen log overlooking the valley.
Pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders.
And let myself think.
About Ashley.
About the Alpha.
About my mother.
About all the questions nobody would answer.
A sharp gust swept across the overlook.
Cold enough to sting my face.
I shivered.
Then froze.
Lavender.
Rain.
The scent drifted through the air so suddenly my breath caught.
It disappeared almost immediately.
Gone before I could fully convince myself it had been there.
But my heart already knew.
My mother's scent.
Impossible.
I stood so quickly that snow scattered beneath my boots.
Slowly, I turned.
Nothing.
Only trees.
Snow.
Shadows stretching between ancient trunks.
The sensible part of me searched for an explanation.
Memory.
Imagination.
Wishful thinking.
The rest of me refused to listen.
It had felt real.
Too real.
A strange warmth spread through my chest.
Not painful.
Not comforting.
Just...
Familiar.
The feeling lingered for several heartbeats before fading.
Leaving me standing alone beneath the falling snow.
Confused.
Hopeful.
Heartbroken.
I sat back down.
Pressed my hands against my eyes.
This was ridiculous.
I was nineteen years old.
Not a child chasing ghosts.
Yet some part of me still wanted answers.
Still wanted her.
Still wanted one more conversation.
One more memory.
One more chance.
The wind shifted again.
Softer this time.
Gentle.
Like fingertips brushing my cheek.
My eyes opened.
The forest stood perfectly still.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then...
A whisper.
So soft I almost missed it.
My little star.
I shot to my feet.
Heart pounding against my ribs.
The overlook remained empty.
No footprints.
No movement.
Nothing.
And yet...
I knew what I'd heard.
Or maybe...
What I'd needed to hear.
The certainty settled quietly inside me.
Invisible.
Unexplainable.
Real.
Somewhere beyond the trees...
Something waited.
Not with hunger.
Not with malice.
With patience.
As though it had been waiting for the moment...
I finally looked back.
- Writer
