Chapter 2 They belong here

Kael Solaris (POV)

The office always smelled like cedarwood and bad decisions.

My father called it “tradition.” I called it expensive furniture designed to make people lie more politely.

I stood in front of his desk with my arms crossed, watching him go through papers he didn’t need to read. Alpha things. Territory reports. Pack logistics. The kind of work that made normal people think we were just a powerful family business.

We weren’t.

We were worse.

“You’re distracted,” my father said without looking up.

“I’m bored,” I corrected.

He finally glanced at me. “Same thing for you.”

I smirked. “Not my fault your paperwork is emotional support material.”

A faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. Almost.

Then his expression shifted.

That subtle change in air pressure that always meant something real was about to happen.

“You felt it,” he said.

I stopped leaning on the wall.

That got my attention.

“Felt what?”

He set the paper down slowly.

“Someone crossed into the outer boundary this morning.”

I raised an eyebrow. “We get tourists now?”

“No.” His voice was calm. Too calm. “A family.”

That word meant more than it should’ve.

In our world, “family” rarely meant something simple.

My wolf stirred slightly under my skin—not awake, not aggressive. Just… aware.

I hated when it did that.

“New pack?” I asked.

My father shook his head. “Not new.”

That made no sense.

I pushed off the wall. “Then what is it?”

He hesitated.

And that was worse than an answer.

“They’re returning,” he said finally. “To an old residence.”

I frowned. “Old residence like… haunted old or politically inconvenient old?”

“Both.”

I sighed. “Great. Love those.”

He slid a file across the desk toward me.

I didn’t move at first.

“I’m not your scout,” I said.

“You’re my son,” he replied.

“That doesn’t sound like a job title.”

“Read the file.”

I picked it up.

Names. Documents. Old records.

Then I saw it.

A surname that made something in my chest tighten slightly.

Not pain.

Not recognition.

Something closer to instinct snapping its head up.

I didn’t like that.

I tapped the paper. “Sinclair?”

My father’s eyes sharpened slightly.

“Yes.”

The air in the room changed.

Even I felt it.

Like the house itself had paused to listen.

“That family left years ago,” I said slowly. “Before I was even—”

“Before your time, yes,” he interrupted.

I looked up. “So why do I care now?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Which meant I already did care, whether I liked it or not.

“They’re under protection,” he said. “Our protection.”

I blinked. “We’re babysitting humans now?”

“No,” he said. “We’re correcting something unfinished.”

That sentence didn’t help anything.

I closed the file. “That explains nothing.”

“It’s not meant to.”

I stared at him for a long moment.

Then sighed. “Fine. What do you need from me?”

That got his full attention.

“I need you to observe,” he said. “Nothing more.”

“Observe what?”

“The daughter.”

I paused.

“…They have a daughter?”

“Yes.”

I frowned slightly. “Let me guess—she’s also ‘unfinished’?”

My father didn’t answer.

Which was basically a yes.

I exhaled. “This is starting to sound like a problem you should’ve solved before it became my problem.”

He leaned back in his chair. “It already is your problem.”

I groaned. “I hate being right.”

I left the office ten minutes later, mostly because staying any longer would’ve involved more responsibilities and less sarcasm.

The house outside was quieter than usual.

Which meant something was happening.

Or about to happen.

Or both.

I walked through the back corridor and out toward the forest line, pulling my jacket tighter as I went.

The woods around our territory were… different.

Most people thought forests were just trees.

They weren’t.

They were borders.

Walls without bricks.

And right now, something had crossed mine.

I felt it before I saw it.

A ripple through the pack bond—soft, subtle, like a breath taken too close to my skin.

I stopped walking.

“…Okay,” I muttered to myself. “That’s new.”

My wolf lifted its head inside me.

Not fully awake.

Just interested.

Which was worse.

I stepped deeper into the trees, moving silently now.

The closer I got to the edge of the territory, the stronger it became.

A presence.

Not hostile.

Not aggressive.

Just… there.

Like gravity shifting slightly out of place.

I reached the ridge above the old road that led to the Sinclair house.

And I saw them.

A car.

A family stepping out.

Two adults.

And her.

I frowned.

“That’s it?” I whispered to myself.

She didn’t look dangerous.

Which immediately made me more suspicious.

Long curly hair. Light movement when she stepped out of the car like she didn’t quite belong in her own body yet. Looking around like the world was slightly too loud for her.

Normal.

Too normal.

My wolf made a small sound inside my head.

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t start.”

Down below, her father said something to her.

She didn’t laugh.

Didn’t smile much either.

Just looked at the house like it was already familiar in a way she couldn’t explain.

My brows pulled together slightly.

That reaction… wasn’t normal.

I shifted my weight on the branch I was leaning against.

It creaked.

Loudly.

“Great,” I muttered. “Stealth level: raccoon in a trash can.”

One of my pack guards—hidden further back in the trees—snorted.

I whipped my head toward him.

He froze.

I pointed at him. “If you tell anyone I made a raccoon sound, I will deny your entire existence.”

He nodded very quickly.

Good.

I turned back toward the house.

The girl—Sinclair—had moved closer to the porch now.

And that was when it hit me.

Not a thought.

Not a feeling.

Something deeper.

My wolf reacted fully this time.

Sharp.

Instant.

Alert.

Like it had just recognized something it had been waiting for without knowing it was waiting.

I stiffened.

“What the hell…” I whispered.

The air around her felt wrong.

Not in a bad way.

In a significant way.

Like she was a missing piece of something I didn’t remember losing.

She paused suddenly.

Right before entering the house.

Her head tilted slightly.

Not toward me.

Not exactly.

But close enough that my instincts went completely still.

For a split second, I thought—

No.

She couldn’t sense me.

Humans don’t do that.

Right?

Down below, her father opened the door and ushered her inside.

And just like that—

The pull didn’t disappear.

It got worse.

I exhaled slowly.

“…Dad is going to love this,” I muttered.

Behind me, one of the guards shifted.

“What do you feel?” he asked quietly.

I stared at the house.

At the girl who had just walked inside.

“I feel like my peaceful week just got canceled,” I said.

He hesitated. “That bad?”

I turned slightly.

“No,” I said. “Worse.”

A pause.

“…She’s cute though,” I added after a moment.

The guard blinked.

I immediately pointed at him again. “Don’t start rumors.”

He nodded fast.

I looked back toward the house.

The feeling didn’t fade.

If anything, it settled deeper under my skin.

Like something had just arrived.

And it had no intention of leaving.

I exhaled slowly.

“Sinclair,” I muttered. “What are you?”

And for the first time in a long time…

My wolf didn’t answer.

It just watched.