Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Peter's hand hung frozen in the air for a long moment before he slowly pulled it back.

"Callie?" His voice had gone quiet, nothing like the harsh tone that she was used to.

She uncurled herself from the tight ball she'd folded into, straightening her spine and smoothing down her sleeve like nothing had happened as she tried to move past it. "I'm fine," she said. "Just tired from the drive."

He didn't believe her. She could see it in the way his eyes lingered on her arms, where her hand looked too thin for his liking. Two years ago she had been soft, well-fed, glowing. The girl sitting beside him now looked like a stiff wind could break her in half.

"Get out of the car," he said, but the sharpness had drained out of his voice and he was just operating on auto pilot now. He came around to open her door before she could reach for the handle herself, and when he offered his hand to help her out, she stared at it like she didn't know what to do with it.

Callie ignored the hand and climbed out on her own, careful to keep a full step of distance between them.

Peter's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. He simply watched her walk past him toward the front steps of the house, noting the way she kept close to the wall, the way her eyes tracked every moving shadow, every servant crossing the courtyard, like she was looking for the exits.

The estate looked exactly as she remembered it. Nothing drastic had been done to the exterior decoration of the place. It should have felt like coming home to something familiar. Instead it felt like walking into a house that belonged to strangers.

"Callie!"

The voice rang out across the courtyard, bright and warm. Callie's whole body went rigid before she even turned around.

Rowena came rushing down the front steps, her long hair streaming behind her, arms already outstretched. She was dressed in something girly and expensive giving off the vibe of someone who had never gone hungry once in her life.

"You're finally home," Rowena said, breathless, stopping just short of pulling Callie into a hug.

 "I've missed you so much. I know things have been so hard, but I promise we're going to make it up to you."

Callie said nothing to her. She just kept her eyes fixed somewhere over Rowena's shoulder.

If Rowena noticed the silence, she didn't let it show. She reached up toward Callie's collar, her fingers reaching out to straighten the old frayed fabric. "Here, let me just fix this, you look—"

Callie flinched back before Rowena's hand ever made contact. It wasn't planned, just a mere reflex ingrained into her body after years of abuse.

Rowena, caught reaching for empty air, stumbled. Her heel caught on the stone step and she went down hard, landing on her hip with a startled cry.

"Rowena!" Peter was at her side in an instant, crouching down, one hand cupping her elbow. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I don't know, I just—I only wanted to help her," Rowena said, her voice trembling, eyes glassy and wide as she looked up at Callie like she had personally betrayed her.

"I didn't mean anything by it."

Peter's gaze snapped to Callie, and whatever softness that was present on his face when he drove her home was replaced with the old, familiar disappointment that he kept reserved for her. "Callie. She was trying to help you."

Callie looked at the two of them, Peter's arm braced protectively around Rowena's shoulders, and felt something in her chest go very still. She knew that there was nothing she would say that would change his mind. She had learned that the hard way.

"I'm sorry," she said, flat and toneless.

Peter opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but Rowena caught his sleeve, wincing as she got to her feet. "It's fine, really. I'm fine. Please don't be upset with her, Peter, she's probably still adjusting."

It should have sounded gracious but it landed like another wedge between Callie and them, showing how Callie was being the unreasonable one.

Peter helped Rowena brush off her dress, still frowning faintly, his eyes darting once more toward Callie like he was looking for a reaction. Two years ago, Callie protesting or demanding retribution would have made perfect sense to him. Now, watching Callie stand there small quiet didn't sit right with his gut.

"I hear mum is sick, I need to go and pay my respects to her, where is she?" Callie asked as Peter raised a hand to stop her.

"Right now, she has refused to see you, she is very fragile and what you did, still causes her disappointment, why don't you settle in first then later we will work something out. Her heart is weak and can't stand the stress of seeing you now, you understand don't you?'' he said as Callie looked at him with pure disbelief on her face.

What she did? Funny how they all seem to have gotten collective Amnesia? She wanted to argue but held her tongue and shrugged.

"Okay fine, I understand." Callie said as Peter frowned slightly put off by the flatness of her tone and her not insisting to see mum, she was always mum's little shadow, following her everywhere, even when told no, she would insist and plead till it was changed to a yes, and now she just accepted it like that.

Before he could ask anything, the low rumble of an engine cut through the courtyard.

A convoy of sleek cars swept through the gates, gravel crunching under the tires. Servants who had been standing near the entrance suddenly scattered into motion, someone calling out that the guest had arrived early.

"He's here," Rowena breathed, all trace of her stumble forgotten as she smoothed her hair and straightened her dress trying to look proper and dignified clearly expecting an important guest. "Peter, he's early, we're not ready—"

"It's fine," Peter said, already turning to arrange himself into the composed befitting authority that was worthy as the pack's Alpha. "Get the elders. Now."

Callie took the chaos as her chance to slip back, retreating toward the shadow of the entryway. She had no interest in being seen, she wanted to slip in and hide before anyone would notice her.

She didn't make it far.

The main car rolled to a stop, and the man who stepped out of it commanded the courtyard without saying a single word.

 Tall, dressed in black, his presence alone seemed to still the air around him. Every servant dropped into a bow. Even Peter straightened further, dipping his head in respect.

The King did not look at any of them.

His gaze moved past the entire courtyard , passing Rowena's smile and Peter's stiff greeting, and caught instead on the, quiet girl trying to vanish behind the door.

He stopped walking.

"Who is that girl?" King asked. His voice was low, unhurried, the kind of voice that expected an answer and would wait as long as it needed to get one.

Peter blinked, caught off guard. "That's my sister," he said quickly. "Callie. She's just returned home today, she's not—she won't be joining us this evening."

King studied her a moment longer. Callie forced herself to hold still under it, chin lifted just enough that it wouldn't look like fear, though her pulse hammered hard beneath her ribs.

He said nothing else. No follow-up question that would indicate interest beyond the surface level, there was no flicker of visible interest crossing his face. He simply turned back toward Peter and Rowena, and the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

But before he stepped inside, King paused beside one of the men trailing behind him and spoke low enough that only they could hear.

"Find out everything about her."

The man nodded once and said nothing more.