All Chapters of The Heir Comes Home: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The Town That RememberedBlack Hollow sat in a valley between three ridges, tucked beneath the mountains like it had grown there instead of being built.Old brick storefronts lined Main Street. Yellow light glowed in fogged windows. Smoke drifted from chimneys and disappeared into the rain. The whole town looked smeared and ghostly through the windshield, like a memory that had been left out too long in bad weather.I passed Hollow Market first.The sign still hung crooked over the door. Mr. Calloway used to stand behind the counter with his suspenders and his permanent frown, calling me “Frost girl” like it was an accusation instead of a name.I wondered if he was still alive.Knowing Black Hollow, probably. Spite preserved people here.Next came the diner.The red vinyl booths were visible through the steamy windows. One booth in the back had a tear along the seat where Damien once caught his pocketknife when we were sixteen. He blamed me. I blamed his inability to sit like a normal

The Frost Girl Comes HomeFrost girl.There it was.Not Lena.Never just Lena.The Frost girl.Like my last name came with a warning label.My fingers curled at my sides.Six years gone, and the town still knew exactly where to press.I lifted my chin and started walking.Because turning around would have made them think they mattered.Because my mother was in a hospital bed.Because the Frost house was waiting on the ridge.Because I had not survived six years away from Black Hollow just to be chased out by whispers before I even got a drink.The bar watched me cross the room.Some faces I recognized immediately.Mrs. Pike sat near the fireplace, older now but still wearing the same pinched expression she had worn every Sunday at pack meetings. Her gaze dropped to my boots, my wet jeans, my empty ring finger, like she was hoping to find evidence that life had punished me properly.Lovely woman.At a front table, a woman touched the silver charm at her throat.Moonstone.Protection.L

The Bond Wakes FirstI knew that scent before I turned around.Rain.Cedarwood.Smoke.Him.The whiskey in my stomach turned hot and useless.No.No, no, no.Please not tonight.The damaged bond beneath my ribs woke like something starving.It did not stretch.It did not stir.It snapped awake.Pain and heat shot through my chest so fast my fingers clamped around the glass. The bar blurred at the edges, all green lights and amber bottles and rain-streaked windows melting together. My wolf surged forward, not scared now.Hungry.Desperate.Traitorous.Mate.I squeezed my eyes shut.No.He gave that word away.He carved it out of me in front of the whole pack and left me bleeding on the council hall floor. My wolf did not get to drag it back now just because he smelled like rain and bad decisions.Behind me, boots crossed the old wooden floor.Slow.Controlled.Every step made the bond tighten like wire beneath my ribs.I hated that I knew his walk.I hated that my body knew the exact r

Fifty Witnesses“There’s the Damien I remember.”The words landed between us like a slap.Good.I hoped they stung.Damien’s jaw flexed.That tiny movement used to mean something once. A warning. A restraint. The place where his temper went when he did not want to scare me.I hated that I still noticed.The room had gone painfully quiet around us.Not empty quiet.Not peaceful quiet.Wolf quiet.The kind that listened with teeth.Maggie stayed behind the bar, one hand still wrapped around the towel she had been using, her eyes moving between us like she was watching two lit matches fall toward dry grass.Damien stepped closer.Not much.Just enough for the old wound in my chest to tug once.“You need to leave,” he said.I laughed.It came out colder than I felt, which was honestly a blessing because inside, my body was one bad decision away from remembering every place his hands used to fit.“Funny,” I said. “That sounds a lot like an order.”“It’s a warning.”“From you?” I tilted my