The Lycan's Stolen Bride

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The car pulled into the long driveway without any problem and soon stopped in front of the huge mansion, where Callie could see the familiar surroundings, the trees she preferred, already cut down and replaced by cherry blossoms, something she was mildly allergic to.

She did not comment on anything and instead stepped out of the car slowly, her legs still weak from the ride. The house looked the same as she remembered.

The front door opened before she even reached the steps. Rowena came rushing out first, hand pressed to her chest like she was trying to hold back tears from falling. Behind her came their parents, faces already wet, like they had been crying before Callie even arrived home.

"Oh, Callie," Rowena said, voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were coming home today, I would have done something for you. Nobody told me. If I had known, I would have made sure everything was ready for you."

Their mother rushed forward and grabbed Callie's hands, sobbing into them, pressed to her face as she spoke. "My baby, my poor baby, look at you. We've missed you so much. If you've changed, if you're ready to be part of this family again, we can all live happily together, just like before."

Their father stood behind her, wiping at his eyes with a handkerchief, nodding along with every word his wife said.

Callie stared at them. She said nothing because there was nothing to be said to them.

She remembered a time when words used to spill out of her without thought, when she used to run into this house shouting for her mother, making her voice heard throughout the estate, demanding sweets, demanding attention from everyone, demanding everything a spoiled favorite child demanded.

But that girl felt like someone else now. That girl did not know what waited for her. That girl was naive and had that beaten out of her, until she learned the hard way that drawing attention to yourself was painting a huge target on your back.

Her silence stretched too long, them waiting for her to say something, her tongue glued shut to the roof of her mouth, not even a single twitch was seen. She saw it land on all of their faces, first confusion, then something sharper and more harder than usual, their usual face of contempt for her, already settling into place.

"Are you seriously going to stand there and say nothing?" Peter snapped, stepping forward from where he stood by the side, already aggrieved on their behalf.

"After everything mum and dad just said to you? After Rowena apologized to you?"

Their mother's sobs grew louder, dramatic little hiccups shaking her shoulders hard as she buried her face in her hands, making wretching sounds that sounded agonizing to the ears.

"She hates us. I knew it. She still hates us."

"You're traumatizing Rowena all over again," their father said, voice hard now, all traces of softness gone from it as he continued speaking pointing to a fragile rowena, whose eyes were already wet, thanks to years of practice.. "Look at her. She's shaking. Do you have any decency left in you at all?"

Rowena, right on cue, pressed both hands over her mouth like she was trying to hold in a sob, eyes glistening.

Callie still said nothing. What was there to say. Nothing she said would matter to them and would always be brushed away. Nothing she ever said or did ever had.

Peter shook his head, disgusted with her. "You know what, forget it. You clearly don't deserve a big room in this house if this is how you're going to act. Any room will do for someone with an attitude like yours."

"She's being so defiant," their mother added, dabbing at her eyes, drying the tears quickly, her eyes already bright. "Maybe a smaller room will help her remember her place until she's ready to appreciate what this family is offering her."

Their father waved a hand toward the waiting maid standing quietly by the staircase. "Put her in one of the storage rooms. Until she learns to behave properly."

The maid nodded, not meeting Callie's eyes, and gestured for her to follow.

Callie dipped her head. "Thank you for the room," she said quietly, and turned to follow the maid down the hall.

Nobody stopped her. Nobody said anything else to her. She heard her mother's sniffling fade behind her as she walked, already forgotten the second she was out of sight.

The storage room was small, tucked at the far end of the servant's hallway where the servants were living. There was a narrow cot pushed against one wall, boxes stacked in the corner, a single small window letting in weak light, barely enough to see the room. And the air here was also stale, no ventilation. It smelled like dust and old wood. Callie stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at it, then stepped inside without a word.

She had nothing to unpack. A few tattered things from the camp, folded into a small bundle she carried under one arm. She set them down on the cot and looked around at the boxes stacked along the wall, wondering if any of them held anything of hers from before.

She knelt down and opened the nearest one. Old bedsheets were found in there. She opened the next one. Books she did not recognize at all. She kept searching, quiet and slow, careful not to make too much noise to draw any attention to herself.

She did not hear the door creak open behind her.

"Wow," Rowena's voice rang out, sickly sweet and innocent and full of mocking. " I have to say. This really suits you, doesn't it? A storage room. Fitting, for someone who spent two years in a reformative facility or jail if I must be blunt with words."