Chapter 2 Chapter 2: The Reunion.

Chapter 2: The Reunion.

Damarys-

The moment I reached the front doors, they opened before I could lift a hand.

“Ms. Frostmere.”

Delgan, the estate’s head butler, stood waiting. His usually composed face softened the instant he saw me—his eyes widening, sympathy flickering across them before he could mask it.

“It’s good to have you back. Welcome home.”

I smiled.

It was small, but genuine—the first sincere smile I’d managed in almost three years.

“Thank you, Delgan. It’s good to see you too.”

I glanced behind me just in time to see Tristen freeze. His jaw tightened, heat blooming into rage.

I smirked.

I was sure his fury stemmed from the fact that I’d chosen to speak to Delgan.

He brushed past me, his shoulder clipping the doorway as he stalked inside, shooting Delgan a glare sharp enough to cut. I nearly laughed as I followed, my steps slower.

The moment I stepped into the mansion, I heard it.

Laughter. Easy, carefree laughter.

My family.

They were gathered in the family room—clustered together, talking over one another, smiling as if nothing in the world had ever gone wrong. As if they hadn’t sent me away… destroyed my life.

How perfectly they play family.

A sneer tugged at my lips as I crossed the threshold. Silence fell instantly. Every head turned.

My mother, Aramis, was the first to stand.

“Oh… Damarys.” She hesitated, clearly caught off guard. “We didn’t know you were back. W-welcome home.”

I said nothing. I only looked at her—like one might look at something foul dragged in from the gutter.

Aramis flinched.

My father, Evander, noticed immediately.

“What the hell is with that expression?” he snapped, rising to his feet. “Your mother is speaking to you.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t answer.

“Tch.”

The eldest, Elias, leaned back in his chair, scoffing under his breath.

“I see you didn’t learn much of anything in Iron-Chain.”

My fingers twitched at my side.

Oh, I’d learned many things.

Before I could respond, Thailia rose gracefully from her seat. Her smile was bright. Warm. Perfect.

Poison.

“Oh, sister!” she said, stepping forward, arms already lifting. “It’s so good to see you again! Welcome ho—”

I stepped back.

It was a small movement—but it might as well have been a slap.

Thailia froze, her smile faltering. Then, like clockwork, her eyes shimmered with tears.

“I… did I do something wrong?” Her voice trembled. “I only wanted to—”

Her words broke as the first sob slipped free. And just like that, the room shifted.

“Thailia, stop it! You didn’t do anything!”

Elias was on his feet in an instant.

“Oh, my sweet girl…” Aramis rushed to her side, wrapping her arms around her. “This isn’t your fault.”

Alexander moved next—fast, aggressive—closing the distance between us in three long strides.

“Hey! What the fuck is your problem?” he snapped. “Thailia was happy to see you! Why are you acting like a bitch?”

“Alex, stop!” Thailia cried, clutching his sleeve. “It’s my fault—I shouldn’t have—”

More tears spilled over, her shoulders shaking. Aramis grew frantic, murmuring soft reassurances.

“Apparently,” Tristen drawled from the side, still bitter from earlier, “she only knows how to speak to the butler.”

The words sliced through the tension. Every gaze snapped back to me.

Evander exploded.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice thundered through the room. “Apologize to your sister—and then to this family. Now.”

I finally met his eyes.

Really met them.

And for a moment—just a moment—Evander faltered.

This wasn’t the daughter he remembered. Not the girl who used to beam at him like he hung the stars. Not the one who chased after him with endless questions, clinging to every word he said.

No.

The girl standing before him now looked at him like he was nothing.

As if I could erase him from existence without a second thought.

I gave them nothing. They didn’t deserve my words—not yet.

My gaze shifted instead, moving slowly from face to face. I memorized them. Catalogued them.

The people who had condemned me.

The people who had stolen three years of my life.

The people I would break.

One by one.

Then, without a word, I turned my back on them—

—and walked out.

I could hear my father’s furious shouting and my mother’s pathetic attempts at reason as I headed toward my old room.

Alex's voice rose next—angry, loud, predictable.

The same rhetoric.

Who the hell do you think you are?

What the hell is your problem?

Thailia is so innocent.

The same bullshit they’d been peddling since the moment I returned to this goddess-forsaken mansion.

And then, as if doing me a favor, I heard Evander relent to Aramis's false concern.

“…In any case, Aramis is right. Leave her alone for now.”

I could practically hear his jaw tightening.

“We at least owe her that much.”

I nearly laughed. The sound clawed at my throat as I walked down the hall, unseen.

We at least owe her that much.

The audacity.

The ignorance.

They truly believed three years was something that could be endured… brushed aside… forgiven.

It didn’t matter.

None of it mattered.

I hadn’t come back for apologies.

Or their hollow promises.

I had come back for one reason—

—and one reason only.

The door creaked as I pushed it open.

The room was exactly as I remembered.

Small. Bare. Temporary.

It had always been temporary—even after years.

My gaze swept across the space.

When I had first returned to this family, I had been eleven years old—lost for over a decade after a rogue attack tore me away from them.

I remembered that day.

The careful smiles. The measured words.

“It’s just for now, Damarys,” Aramis had said. “Until Thailia gets used to you. We don’t want her to feel uncomfortable.”

Years passed.

Nothing changed.

Because Thailia was never meant to adjust.

And I was never meant to belong.

Rolling my eyes, I dropped my suitcase on the bed and grabbed my backpack.

I moved quickly. Efficiently.

Clothes. Essentials. Anything that mattered—if anything here ever had.

I wasn’t staying.

Not another night. Not in this place. Not with them.

Once I finished packing, my eyes drifted to the desk in the corner.

Just a few more things.

Then I could leave.

I crossed the room and pulled the drawer open—

—and froze.

Empty.

My chest tightened.

“Damarys…”

Aramis's voice cut through the silence behind me.

I didn’t turn.

“What are you—” she stepped closer, confusion lacing her tone. “Why do you have a backpack—”

I slowly looked over my shoulder.

My eyes were cold.

Sharp.

“My texts. Where are my texts?”

My voice was quiet—

—but edged like a blade.

Aramis's face drained of color as she stepped further into the room.

“Damarys… why are you packing—”

“I’m not staying here,” I snapped. “My research—where is it?!”

My voice rose, making her flinch.

Gone was the vibrant girl who had once looked at her like she was everything.

Even when Aramis had been distant… even when she hadn’t treated me fairly… I had still admired her.

She was my mother.

But not anymore.

“Where is my—”

“We gave it to Thailia.”

Evander's voice cut through the chaos.

I stilled.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze. My expression darkened—unreadable.

“You… what?” I sneered, my voice dropping low and dangerous.

Evander instinctively stepped back before forcing himself to stand tall.

“Watch your tone. This is my house—”

“And that was my work!” I snapped, fury breaking through. “So why does your daughter have my things?!”

Footsteps thundered down the hall.

Elias rushed in, his expression already hardened.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” he demanded. “Look, Damarys, I don’t know what you picked up in that prison, but out here—”

“I want my research back. Now.”

My voice cut through his like steel.

In the corner, Thailia cracked.

“D-Damarys…” she stammered, tears spilling. “I-I needed it… for the university—I didn’t mean to—”

“Needed it?” My gaze snapped to her.

Noel stepped forward, anger flaring.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?! Thailia is training to be a Keeper! What do you even—”

“That’s enough, Alex!”

Aramis's voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

She stepped closer to me, her expression softening into something that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Damarys… sweetheart,” she began gently, “Thailia is training to become a Keeper. Those papers… well…” She hesitated. “Since you can’t… we thought they might be better used by her.”

Silence fell.

Then—

I laughed.

Sharp. Bitter. Hollow.

Completely devoid of humor.

“What’s so funny?” Tristen demanded.

I turned my head toward him, my expression chillingly calm.

“Just so I’m clear,” I said quietly, “Thailia's future depends on how much of my life she can steal?”

My lips curved slightly, but there was no warmth in it.

“Interesting.”

Without another word, I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the door, brushing past them like they weren’t even there.

A hand shot out and grabbed my arm.

Tristen.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

My gaze dropped to his hand.

Then I looked up at him.

“Unless you want to be known as Tristen, the one-armed Alpha…” I said softly, my voice laced with a deadly promise, “I suggest you let me go.”

The color drained from his face.

For a split second, doubt flickered in his eyes.

Is this really Damarys?

Slowly… he released me.

“I’m leaving,” I said, my voice steady now. “On the desk, you’ll find my withdrawal papers—from this pack… and this family.”

The words landed like a blow.

And then I was gone.

The door closed behind me.

Silence swallowed the room—

heavy and suffocating. Catalogued