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
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 he
But if there’s a smell to anxiety, I was drowning in it.As soon as Layla and I walked through the door, the energy of the room completely changed.The venue was filled — men in tailored suits, women in shimmering dresses, all engaged in pleasant laughter and high-priced gossip. Champagne flutes clinked in the golden light of the chandeliers, perfume and alcohol and the unmistakable smell of power in the air.This was not a regular birthday party. It was a show of influence.Like I belonged there foram a big fat liar.Layla by contrast entered like she owned the goddamn building.The dress clung to her curves in a manner that made every male take a second ogle, her self-assured smirk daring them to ogle longer.“I swear to God,” she whispered dramatically, slipping her arm around mine. “If one more dude undresses me with his eyes, I’m gonna start charging them cover.”I stifled a laugh.And then as if I was a magnet for catastrophe my eyes betrayed me. They glanced around the room se
The thing about dancing with an Alpha? It’s a dangerous game.Not the oh-no-I-might-trip-and-faceplant kind of danger. No, this was the I-might-actually-like-this-and-that's-a-problem kind of danger.And Logan? He played the game too well.“Call me Naomi,” I said as we moved in sync with the music. “If you keep calling me Miss Carter, I’ll start thinking I should be handing out detention slips.”Logan let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on my waist tightening just enough to keep me grounded. “Noted. But I don’t know… Miss Naomi does have a certain dominance to it.”I scoffed. “Yeah, I’m so intimidating. Just ask anyone.”He spun me effortlessly, his smirk growing. “Oh, I don’t need to. I can see for myself.”Something about the way he said it made my stomach do this weird little flip.Which was stupid.Because I didn’t get flustered by men.Especially not Alphas.Especially not this Alpha.So, naturally, I changed the subject."Do you have a mate?" I asked, hoping to shift the focus awa
The thing about dancing with an Alpha? It’s a dangerous game.Not the oh-no-I-might-trip-and-faceplant kind of danger. No, this was the I-might-actually-like-this-and-that's-a-problem kind of danger.And Logan? He played the game too well.“Call me Naomi,” I said as we moved in sync with the music. “If you keep calling me Miss Carter, I’ll start thinking I should be handing out detention slips.”Logan let out a quiet chuckle, his grip on my waist tightening just enough to keep me grounded. “Noted. But I don’t know… Miss Naomi does have a certain dominance to it.”I scoffed. “Yeah, I’m so intimidating. Just ask anyone.”He spun me effortlessly, his smirk growing. “Oh, I don’t need to. I can see for myself.”Something about the way he said it made my stomach do this weird little flip.Which was stupid.Because I didn’t get flustered by men.Especially not Alphas.Especially not this Alpha.So, naturally, I changed the subject."Do you have a mate?" I asked, hoping to shift the focus awa
But if there’s a smell to anxiety, I was drowning in it.As soon as Layla and I walked through the door, the energy of the room completely changed.The venue was filled — men in tailored suits, women in shimmering dresses, all engaged in pleasant laughter and high-priced gossip. Champagne flutes clinked in the golden light of the chandeliers, perfume and alcohol and the unmistakable smell of power in the air.This was not a regular birthday party. It was a show of influence.Like I belonged there foram a big fat liar.Layla by contrast entered like she owned the goddamn building.The dress clung to her curves in a manner that made every male take a second ogle, her self-assured smirk daring them to ogle longer.“I swear to God,” she whispered dramatically, slipping her arm around mine. “If one more dude undresses me with his eyes, I’m gonna start charging them cover.”I stifled a laugh.And then as if I was a magnet for catastrophe my eyes betrayed me. They glanced around the room se
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 he
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
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 h