03 Homecoming

Sera

The Valdris palace looked exactly the same.

I stood at the main entrance staring up at white stone I'd spent my childhood hating. Six years and they hadn't changed a damn thing. Same arched windows, same marble columns, same guards in their ceremonial armor that was more for show than actual protection.

The drive here had been long. I'd caught a bus to the border territories, then hired a car for the rest. Three days of travel, three days of staring out windows and trying not to think about what I was going back to. My clothes were rumpled from sleeping in cheap motels and my hair was a mess, but at least I didn't look like I'd crawled here through the woods.

The scar on my collarbone still burned, though. That hadn't stopped.

One of the guards recognized me. His eyes went wide.

"My lady, we didn't—I should alert—"

"Just open the door."

He did.

The entrance hall looked exactly like I remembered. Polished floors reflecting chandelier light, tapestries showing the Valdris crest—a crowned wolf above a crescent moon. Everything perfect and cold and designed to remind you this was a palace, not a home.

I made it three steps inside before someone screamed.

My mother came running from the east corridor, skirts gathered in her hands, moving faster than I'd ever seen her move. She wasn't elegant or composed or any of the things a Queen was supposed to be. She was just a woman who'd lost her daughter and suddenly had her back.

She hit me hard enough that I stumbled.

"Sera!" Her arms went around me, squeezing so tight I couldn't breathe. "Oh gods, Sera, you're here, you're really here—"

I stood there frozen. I'd forgotten what it felt like to be hugged by someone who actually gave a shit about me.

She pulled back, hands on my face, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked older. There were lines around her eyes that hadn't been there six years ago. Gray in her dark hair.

"You're home," she kept saying, like she couldn't believe it. "You're home, you're home—"

"I'm home." The words felt strange in my mouth.

"Sera!"

I looked up just in time to see Lyra running down the corridor.

She'd grown up. Last time I'd seen my sister she was fourteen—all gangly limbs and braces and that annoying habit of following me everywhere. Now she was twenty. Taller, filled out, beautiful actually, with the same dark hair and green eyes we'd inherited from our mother.

She slammed into me hard enough to knock us both sideways. Mom had to grab the wall to keep from falling.

"I can't believe you're here!" Lyra's arms went around my neck, her face buried in my shoulder. "I thought—we thought—"

"I know." I hugged her back, surprised by how much I'd actually missed her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." She pulled back, grinning even though she was crying. "You're here now. That's what matters."

For a second it almost felt okay. Like maybe coming back hadn't been the worst decision I could have made.

Then a voice came from the end of the hall.

"Sera."

We all turned.

My father stood there in his formal robes, hands clasped behind his back. King Aldric Valdris—ruler of the wolf territories, master of political alliances, and the man I'd made a bet with six years ago that I'd just lost.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

Mom's hand found mine and squeezed. Lyra moved closer to my other side like she was ready to defend me if she needed to.

My father walked forward and stopped a few feet away. His face showed nothing. Not relief that I was home, not anger that I'd been gone. Just this cold assessment, like he was looking at a problem he needed to solve.

"I see you've decided to honor our agreement," he said.

His voice was level. Calm. Like I'd just been on vacation instead of gone for six years.

I swallowed. "The three years are up. I'm here."

"Indeed." His eyes flicked to the scar on my collarbone. Lingered there. "I take it things didn't work out with your mate."

"No."

"A shame." He didn't sound like he thought it was a shame. "But as we discussed—a deal is a deal."

My jaw tightened. "I know."

"Good." He turned to my mother without looking at me again. "See that she's settled in her old chambers. We'll discuss the arrangements tomorrow morning."

Then he walked away like this conversation had never happened.

The three of us stood there in silence.

"He's happy you're home," Mom said quietly. "He just doesn't know how to show it."

I didn't believe that for a second. My father wasn't happy I was home. He was satisfied that I was finally going to fix the mess I'd made six years ago when I ran away and cost him his alliance. That was different.

───

The next few hours blurred together.

Mom insisted I take a bath and practically dragged me to my old chambers while I stood there like an idiot. The rooms looked exactly the same. Same four-poster bed with the posts I used to tie sheets to when I wanted to climb down to the gardens. Same heavy curtains. Same view of those gardens where I'd spent half my childhood plotting ways to escape.

Coming back here felt wrong.

The bath helped though. I scrubbed six years of running off my skin and watched the water turn gray with dirt and road dust. When I finally got out there were clean clothes laid out on the bed. A simple dress, soft and comfortable. Nothing like the formal gowns I'd been forced to wear growing up.

Mom had remembered I hated those things.

Lyra was waiting outside my door when I came out.

"Mom says you need to eat," she announced. "And she's not taking no for an answer."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine, you look like you haven't had a real meal in a week." She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the family dining room—the small one, not the massive formal hall where we had state dinners. "Come on."

She wasn't wrong. I'd been surviving on stolen bread and whatever I could scavenge. Actual food sounded good.

The meal was quiet. Just me, Mom, and Lyra. Dad was nowhere to be seen, which was fine by me. They didn't push for details about where I'd been or what I'd been doing. Mom just kept putting food on my plate and Lyra kept talking—filling the silence with stories about court politics and pack alliances and some scandal involving a visiting Alpha's son who'd gotten drunk and propositioned a serving girl.

Normal stuff. Safe stuff.

I let her voice wash over me and tried to pretend everything was fine.

───

When the sun set I finally managed to escape to my room.

Lyra had wanted to stay but Mom gently pulled her away. "Let her rest, sweetheart. She's had a long journey."

So I was alone.

I sat on the edge of the bed staring at nothing. The scar on my collarbone throbbed. I touched it without thinking—felt the raised skin where the bond had torn away.

Kane was probably with Elara right now. Probably holding her, his hand on her stomach, talking about their future together.

I shoved the thought away before it could dig in.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"If that's you, Lyra, I swear—"

"It's not."

I froze.

I knew that voice.

The door opened and Nadia slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her. She looked the same—same dark curls, same mischievous smile, same ability to sneak through the palace like she owned the place.

We stared at each other for a long moment.

Then I broke.

I didn't mean to. I'd been holding it together all day, playing the part of the returned daughter, pretending I was fine. But seeing Nadia—my best friend since we were kids, the one who'd helped me escape the first time, the one who knew all my secrets—

I couldn't do it anymore.

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around me before I could get a word out.

"I've got you," she whispered. "It's okay. I've got you."

I sobbed into her shoulder like a child. All the pain I'd been shoving down since the ceremony, since the rejection, since I'd walked away from the only life I'd built for myself—it all came pouring out.

Nadia didn't say anything. Just held me and let me fall apart.

When I finally ran out of tears she pulled back and looked at me.

She climbed into my bed and patted the space beside her. "Come on. Tell me everything."

So I did.

She listened without interrupting. When I was done she was quiet for a minute.

"So tomorrow your father's going to want to discuss the marriage," she finally said.

Cold dread settled in my stomach. "I know."

"Have you met him? The alpha you're supposed to marry?"

"No." I pulled my knees to my chest. "Father just said it was some alliance up north. Some alpha who needed the connection and was willing to wait. I don't even know his name."

Something shifted in Nadia's expression. Something I couldn't quite read.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." She shook her head. "Just... be prepared tomorrow, okay? Your father's been working on this alliance for years. It's important to him."

"I know. That's why I agreed to the bet in the first place." I touched the scar on my collarbone. "Three years to prove love was real. I lost. Now I pay up."

"Sera—"

"I'm tired, Nadia. I just want to sleep."

She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay. Tomorrow. But promise me you'll be careful."

"Careful of what?"

"Just... careful." She settled back against the pillows and pulled me down beside her like we were kids again, having a sleepover. "Get some rest. I'll stay right here."

* * *