Bound with Shadows

If bad decisions had a face, it would be this.

I held the steering wheel tight and looked up at the familiar roads ahead like they were the gates of hell. Five years. Five years of deliberately avoiding this place, and here I was now, driving myself back into the nonsense.

"Deep breaths, Naomi," I told myself. "You are older and wiser and hotter - okay, maybe not wiser, but definitely hotter. You've got this."

Lies. All of it.

Because no amount of pep talk was going to fix the reality that I'd be returning to the place that had witnessed me at my very lowest. The place where my mate - my one and only soulmate I was attractive to - stared me down and pushed me away like clearance sale items nobody wanted.

But today wasn't about him. It was for my little brother, Theo. The one person over the years who had consistently tried to emotionally blackmail me every time I spoke to them.

"Mom and Dad miss you. I miss you. How long are you going to keep pretending to be a runaway criminal?"

I had tried to escape this trip, but Theo was relentless. He even threw in the guilt-trip special:

"What if something happens to them while you're gone? You'd regret that you didn't come back."

So here I was. Back in Silvercrest. Back where my heart was stomped on like a cockroach at a fast-food joint.

I rolled my shoulders as I pulled up to the pack entrance, attempting to shake off the tension. There was a new guy at the security post, and he looked at me the way you look at a suspicious package at an airport.

I rolled down my window. "Hey, I'm Naomi Carter. Theo's sister. Just heading home."

The guy folded his arms. "Theo Carter has exactly one sibling. And she left five years ago."

I blinked. "Yeah. That would be me. The long-lost sister who comes back for a very dramatic homecoming."

He looked at me quizzically, clearly not buying it. "Got any ID?"

I groaned. "Seriously? Do I look like a threat?"

"You look like you're trying too hard to be convincing."

I was ready to start an argument until a familiar voice that boomed cut me off.

"NAOMI CARTER, YOU LITTLE TRAITOR! IS THAT REALLY YOU?! "

I turned just as Marcus Henderson, my childhood best friend, ran at me as if I were the last donut in a bakery.

"Oh no," I muttered. "Here we go."

Before I was even able to respond, Marcus nearly dragged me out of the car and enveloped me in a hug.

"Dude, personal space," I gasped. "And also, maybe lay off the gym, because you just broke my back."

Marcus laughed, taking a step back yet still grinning like an idiot. "I thought you were dead! Or worse - in some sad city apartment with fifty cats."

"First of all, rude. Second, I have one cat, and she's thriving."

The security guy seemed confused as hell. "So... she's legit?"

Marcus scoffed. "Duh. She's Naomi freaking Carter. "You are looking at the biggest pain in my ass the last 10 years."

I smirked, crossing my arms as I looked up at him. "Aww, you missed me."

Marcus snorted, rolling his eyes. "I missed roasting you. My life has been far too tranquil without you here."

I gasped in mock offense. "You say that, and yet here you are, nearly tackling me in broad daylight."

"Shut up."

I laughed, shaking my head. Some things never changed. No matter how much time passed, Marcus would always be the same-sarcastic, insufferable, and secretly just as happy to see me as I was to see him.

The easy banter made it feel like I'd never left, like I hadn't spent so many months away, trying to carve out a new life in the city. But reality had a way of creeping in, reminding me why I was back in the first place.

I exhaled, stretching my arms. "Alright, let me get going. I have emotional trauma to wreak on my brother."

Marcus smirked, shaking his head. "How's that thriving city life? Looking forward to hearing all about it."

I shot him a grin as I pulled open my car door. "Oh, believe me, I have stories."

With that, I slid into the driver's seat and pulled onto the road, leaving Marcus behind in my rearview mirror.

But as soon as my family house appeared on the horizon, my stomach twisted.

The sight of it-so unchanged, so familiar-sent a wave of emotions crashing over me. The white villa stood proudly at the end of the driveway, just as pristine as I remembered. The flower beds my mother had obsessively tended were still overflowing with color, each bloom meticulously arranged like a living piece of art. The porch, the one I used to sit on for hours, staring at the stars, remained exactly the same.

Everything looked identical.

And yet, I felt like a stranger coming home to a place I no longer belonged

And who is standing right at the entrance? My parents.

The instant I got out of the car, my mom gasped. "Oh my god."

Next thing I knew, she was squeezing me so tightly I almost lost my footing. My dad came in second, strong arms around us both.

"I'm sorry," I breathed, my voice breaking. "I should have returned sooner."

My dad kissed me on the top of the head. "You're here now. That's all that matters."

I stepped back, wiping my eyes. My mom shot me a once-over and frowned. "You've lost weight. Are you eating properly?"

"Oh my god, Mom. Please don't start."

"You have lost weight," my dad seconded, ever the co-conspirator. "Perhaps we ought to feed you first."

Perfect timing: My stomach growled.

Theo's voice came from the back. "Well, well, well. "Look who finally showed up after half a decade."

I turned around to see my little brother propped against the porch, arms crossed, smirking like the little menace he was.

"Theo!" I ran over to him, enveloping him in an over-the-top hug. "My favorite sibling!"

"I'm your only sibling," he said dryly.

"Exactly! And look at you! You're taller than me now? Rude."

He rolled his eyes. "You just realized? Damn, sis. Maybe if our visits weren't once every five years-"

"Alright, alright. I get it. I'm trash. Let's move on now before my self-esteem as a writer dies."

Theo grinned. "We're never moving on. I'm going to squeeze this for years."

Before I could protest, my mom clapped her hands. "Enough bickering! Lunch is ready."

I sighed dreamily. "Music to my ears."

Theo laughed, slinging an arm around my shoulders. "Come on, exile. Time to remind you what real food tastes like."

I followed him inside, warmth blossoming in my chest. Maybe returning here wasn't too bad after all.

And then-

A voice I wasn't prepared to hear sliced through the air.

"Well, well. Well, if it isn't the great Naomi Carter. Back from the dead."

My entire body stiffened.

I knew that voice.

I knew it way too well.

And suddenly my past came crashing right back at me.

My jaw clenches; I smile through it. Clara. Just hearing her name makes me want to throw up. But this is her, standing in my family's house, as if she owns the place. And worse-she actually does.

"Naomi!" she shrieks, the words squeaking out of her in a voice so high-pitched it drips with false enthusiasm.

Someone get me an eye-roller so I can roll my eye into another dimension. So instead, I do what anyone with a modicum of self-respect would do in my position - I fake it.

"Clara! Oh my God, look at you! Glowing!" As all my pitch shifts toward the sun, I say. I add a slight head tilt for added impact.

Her hands upon her swollen belly, and her lips curl into a smug smile. "Pregnancy looks good on me, huh?"

Like a well-fed leech," I whisper.

"What was that?" She asks, brows knitting.

"I said, 'Look at you, peach!' " I lie sweetly, giving her an arm pat as if I am the very best of friends with her.

She giggles, and I fight the urge to scream. And, of course, my brother Theo is gazing at her as if she hung the damn moon. His entire face is basically like *whipped. * Gross.

"See, Naomi?" My mother leans in, smiling fondly at Clara. "I told you our baby was going to love Clara. Who wouldn't want such a good girl?"

Me. I'm the answer to that question.

But I smile, nodding along like a dutiful daughter who's not quietly praying for divine intervention.

Luncheon, Lies and Dropped-in Guests

I help my mother prepare the dinner table, an act I haven't done in quite some time. It feels... oddly comforting. Years of devouring takeout in my tiny city apartment, *home-cooked food feels like a luxury. *

Halfway through a delicious bite of mash, it is forcefully jarring my peace.

"NAOMIIIIIIIII!"

My fork nearly flies across the room at the high-pitched shriek. A human missile named Layla barreling toward me before I can process anything.

I can hardly stand before she screeches to a stop inches from my face.

Well, that's new. Normally, she simply throws me to the ground like a golden retriever whose tail has been stepped on.

"Wow. Restraint?" I tease, arching a brow. "Are we maturing?"

Layla crosses her arms, pouting. "You're a horrible friend."

"Not even a hello first?" I smile, if she is right about it.

She huffs dramatically. "Oh, I would've greeted you. But you didn't say you were back!"

"Surprise?" I do, giving her an innocent smile.

Layla glares for a couple seconds and then sighs. "Ugh, I hate that I can't stay mad at you.

"That's because I'm adorable."

She snorts, but doesn't dispute it.

My mother swoops in like a heavenly savior before Tina can go on another rant.

"Ladies, it's lunch time. Layla, join us. You can scold Naomi later."

Layla's eyes illuminate like Christmas morning. Aunt, you don't need to tell me twice!"

She flops down in a chair as if she owns the joint. I see her and Theo give each other a nervous look.

Hmm. Suspicious.

The entire pack believed they were mates once upon a time. Then reality happened.

Theo met Clara. Layla met someone else. And now, here we are.

- I don't know what happened with them but based on how Layla is just stabbing the shit out of her steak like it had a personal vendetta against her, I'd say it was ugly.

Secrets and Schemes

Layla takes me upstairs to my room after lunch. I have little more than crossed the threshold when she - flops onto my bed as if she pays rent here.

"Make yourself at home, won't you?" I say dryly.

"I always do," she smirks.

I shake my head, surveying the room. Nothing has changed. Animal and Contact Noise: The same soft lavender walls. The same bookshelves filled with my childhood favorites. A similar feeling of nostalgia wrapped around me like a comforting blanket.

"Nice to be home," I say, dragging my hand over my desk.

"Yeah," Layla says. "Home to finally confront your demons."

I narrowed my eyes on her. "You could've put that in a less ominous way, you know.

"But where's the fun in that?" she grins.

I plop down next to her with a sigh. "Honestly? I don't know what I'll do next. But one thing is for sure - I'm done running."

Layla sits up, eyes gleaming. "YES. THAT'S THE ENERGY. MAKE THAT DOUCHEBAG REGRET EVER BEING BORN."

I blink. "Are we still talking about my ex-mate? Or are they simply a reflection of some unresolved feelings you have for a certain someone?"

Layla's mouth tightens into a line. "Mind your business."

I snort. "Uh-huh. That's what I thought."

Layla clears her throat, changing the subject so quickly I almost get whiplash.

"Anyway," she asks, a naughtiness in her eyes, "do you have a boyfriend?"

I choke on my own spit. "WHAT?"

She clicks her tongue. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. I can tell just by looking at you - you're still a virgin, aren't you?"

What the actual hell.

I gape at her. "How did we get here?! A moment ago, we were talking about my emotional trauma!"

Layla waves a hand. "Oh, hush. There is space for trauma and romance."

I groan, hiding my face in a pillow. "I don't have time for dating, alright? I never have time for work and - "

"Boring," Layla cuts me off. "Well, your lucky night - tonight is Theo's birthday party. And guess what?"

I peek at her warily. "What?"

She grins like a villain. There will be plenty of hot, eligible bachelors there." And I, my dear, am dressing you for the gala of- (wait for it)-suitor hunting."

I sit up so quickly the room spins. "SUITOR WHAT?! "

Layla cackles like the evil genius she is.

"See you at six sharp. Don't be late."

Suddenly my tranquil return becomes a matchmaking disaster.

The door suddenly bursts open. I don't even jump. I just sigh.

Layla doesn't knock. She doesn't announce herself. She doesn't walk into a room like a regular person.

She breaks in.

"One day, I swear you're going to knock like a civilized human being," I say, looking on as she struts in awake like she owns the place.

Layla snorts. "Where's the fun in that?" She slams the door behind her, arms crossed over her waist, eyes raking my body like a hunter. "Okay. First of all, why do you look like you just had your own funeral?"

I arch a brow. "I don't."

"You do."

I roll my eyes. "I just didn't know that looking into a mirror made you a psychologist."

Layla grins. "That's the spirit. 'Keep up that sarcasm, we might survive this night'"

She walks over to my dressing table, where two dresses are laid out - both far too fancy for a girl like me.

I already know what's coming.

She taps the red dress. "Wear this one."

I shake my head. "I was thinking the black one."

Layla gasps like I just told her to burn the packhouse down. "Absolutely not! Black is for blending in, and tonight, my darling Naomi Carter, we are not blending in. You're going to go in there and own the damn room."

"Or, and hear me out, I can go in, enjoy the party, and leave without anyone noticing me."

Layla looks as if she were personally insulted. "Why do I even bother with you?

I smirk. "Because I make your life a little more interesting."

She huffs but doesn't refute it.

The Ghost That Haunts Me

While Layla keeps herself occupied with the make-over process I get lost in thought.

Five years.

It's been five years since I was rejected. Five years since he spoke the words that tore me to pieces without pausing.

"Wolfless. Worthless."

"You thought someone like you would ever be my Luna?

I was eighteen.

I never had loved anyone before - never even really thought much about what it would be like to belong to someone in that way. But then I turned eighteen, felt the mate bond click into place, and thought, this is the one.

Fate had chosen him for me.

And he had stared me in the eyes and spat in fate's face.

I was nothing to him. Less than nothing.

Because so I was weak in his eyes.

"A pathetic person such as you sickens me."

I squeeze my eyes closed, pushing the memory away before it can sink its claws in further.

I hate that it still hurts.

I hate that some small part of me still feels that bond pull.

It's pathetic.

And the worst part? He never even officially declined me.

I still feel the bond. And my wolf - Haven - still aches for a mate who never wanted her.

Two years after my departure from the pack, she had surfaced.

A surprise, given that I'd been told I was wolfless. Turns out, Haven was always there, lying dormant within me.

Nobody knows about her. Not even my parents.

And especially not him.

Layla's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. "You're doing it again."

I blink at her image in the mirror. "Doing what?"

"Thinking about him."

I start to deny it, but she just deadpans at me. "Naomi, please. "I can feel the self-hatred coming in."

I look away. "I wasn't thinking about him at all.

"You're terrible at lying," she says bluntly.

I sigh. "Fine. Maybe I was. A little."

Layla crosses her arms. "Are you still secretly hoping that he'll see you tonight and drop to his knees in regret?"

I glare at her. "There isn't enough money to pay me for that.

"That's the attitude!" she grins. "Now let's work on them getting you to actually believe it."

She sits on my bed and gives me the eye. "You've got to get him out of your system. And not just him - the whole damn past. You can't keep making this weight like it's some punishment you deserve.'

"I don't-"

"Yes, you do," she interrupts me. "I have this feeling that you believe this entire thing is your fault. That had you are stronger or louder or more - whatever. He wanted you.

I stare at the ground, unable to meet her eyes.

"Naomi," she says, more gentle this time. "You don't need him to desire you. You don't require anyone to affirm you. You've been busy five years showing that you're not the same girl he threw out. But now it's time for you to really live like that's true.'

Something in my chest aches.

Because she's right.

I departed, yes, but I never really went away.

And that ends tonight.

I catch Layla's eyes in the mirror. "Fine," I say. "Let's do this."

She grins. "Damn right we will."

The Queen Walks In

One hour later, we went downstairs.

My parents are waiting for us, and when they see me, my father whistles low.

"My daughter is a woman now," he says, his eyes gleaming with pride.

My mother beams. "Of course she has. She's turning out just like me, after all."

Layla snorts. "Humble as ever, Aunt Lily."

We all laugh, but my mom has a point. I am like her - same hazel eyes, same brown hair, same quiet strength. A strength I hadn't been sure I had, until now.

And tonight, for the first time in many moons, I think I feel like her daughter.

Like I belong.

"You girls coming with us?" my mother says, pulling her shawl tighter. "Theo and Clara already went."

Layla waves a hand, as if brushing the request away. "We'll take Naomi's car. We're fashionably late."

I smirk. "Did you get the 'late' part?"

Layla grins. "Exactly. Let them wait."

The packhouse is a short walk away, but we're not going to hoof it in heels - not the way we intend to arrive.

As my parents' car drives away, I feel it suddenly.

A shift. A tension coiling low in my belly, winding tight like the string on a bow.

He'll be there.

I know it as well as I know my own name.

What's he gonna do when he sees me?

Will he acknowledge me? Will he regret it?

A malevolent little voice in the back of my head whispers - Will I even care?

I shake my head sharply. No. Doesn't matter.

Tonight isn't about him.

It's about me.

Layla elbows me, a knowing grin on her face. "You ready?"

I mirror her gaze, inhaling, steadying myself.

Then I say, with a slow, confident smile -

"Let's go make history."