Chapter 2: The Ravenwood Sons Return

The loud growl of expensive engines filled the air outside, breaking the rhythm of work in the mansion. Servants paused, frozen in place for a heartbeat, then scrambled like scattered ants. The Ravenwood sons were home.

I stood at the edge of the dining hall, trying not to look as the black luxury cars pulled up. The entire estate seemed to hold its breath.

Heavy boots hit the marble floor, doors swung open, and there they were.

Ronan, Elias, Darius, and Kael.

They were no longer the annoying little boys I remembered. Time had sharpened them. Made them taller, stronger, broader. The mischievous glints in their eyes had not faded—if anything, they were darker now, more dangerous.

They were all stunning, in that cold, perfect way. The kind of beauty that made people stare and whisper. Ronan was first to walk in, tall and bold with piercing gray eyes and a presence that made the servants step out of his way. Elias followed, all smug smiles and loose elegance, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. Darius looked like he belonged in a magazine, his jaw sharp and gaze sharp even sharper. And Kael—the quietest of them all—was no longer the silent observer. He looked... cold, unreadable, with eyes that saw too much.

I watched from the shadows, expression blank. I felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

No flutter in my chest, no spark of curiosity. Just the same dull ache I always carried around in my bones.

The brothers paused as they entered the mansion, taking in the place.

“Same old place,” Ronan muttered.

“Smells the same too,” Elias added, wrinkling his nose.

Then Elias’s gaze landed on me. His lips curved into a slow, mocking smile.

“Well, well, is that little Aria?” he said, loud enough for all the maids nearby to hear.

I didn’t flinch. I stood still, hands folded in front of me, eyes focused somewhere over his shoulder.

Ronan chuckled. “She’s grown... sort of. Got breasts now, I see.”

My jaw clenched, but I didn’t react.

Darius stepped closer, eyeing me up and down without shame. “Still as plain as ever though. Can’t fix everything with puberty, can you?”

The others laughed. Even Kael smirked a little, his eyes grazing over me in that calm, quiet way that made it impossible to read his thoughts.

I felt nothing.

Their words didn’t sting. Not anymore. I had learned long ago that reacting only gave them more power. So I stood there, silent and expressionless, like the good little servant they had always wanted me to be.

“Don’t talk to the help too long,” Ronan finally said with a shrug. “We’ve got unpacking to do.”

“Where are Mom and Dad?” Darius asked as they moved further into the hallway.

The head maid, Marla, stepped forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Ravenwood are away on business. They won’t return for another few weeks.”

“Figures,” Elias muttered, looking mildly annoyed.

With that, the boys vanished up the stairs, surrounded by butlers and staff carrying their designer luggage and tailored suits.

I slipped back into the dining room, my task still unfinished. My fingers worked on setting the last bits of silverware as the mansion buzzed around me. The returning sons had set the whole house alight with noise, movement, and tension.

Later that evening, dinner was arranged in the grand hall.

The brothers were seated at the long oak table, dressed in crisp designer clothes, smelling of foreign colognes and wealth. Candlelight flickered over the expensive dishes, casting shadows on the walls. Plates of steaming food were laid out—roasted meats, buttered vegetables, golden potatoes, delicate sauces.

I stood along the side, hands clasped behind my back with the other maids. None of us were allowed to speak unless spoken to.

“God, I missed this food,” Elias said, grabbing a roll from the basket and biting into it like he hadn’t eaten in years.

“Better than anything we had overseas,” Darius agreed, pouring himself a glass of wine.

Kael remained mostly quiet, his eyes flicking from one brother to another, then occasionally to me.

I looked away every time.

Ronan leaned back in his chair, arms stretched behind his head. “So, Aria’s still around, huh? Thought for sure they’d have gotten rid of her by now.”

“She’s loyal,” Elias replied with a grin. “Like a little stray mutt.”

“And still a maid,” Darius added with a fake pout. “Shame. I would’ve thought she’d at least glow up by now.”

The laughter that followed made one of the newer maids flinch beside me. I didn’t move.

“Come here, Aria,” Ronan suddenly said, loud and clear.

I stepped forward obediently, eyes on the floor. “Yes, sir?”

He tilted his head. “What are you now, twenty? Nineteen?”

“Eighteen,” I replied quietly.

Elias let out a low whistle. “Wow. All grown up. Barely.”

“Barely is right,” Darius said, tossing a grape into his mouth. “She’s still flat everywhere that counts.”

Kael finally spoke, his voice low. “Enough.”

The others turned to look at him, surprised.

Kael didn’t elaborate. He just went back to cutting his meat.

For a moment, silence sat at the table. Then Ronan shrugged and waved me away. “You can go. You’re blocking the candlelight.”

I bowed slightly and stepped back into the line of maids.

Dinner continued with loud conversation and inside jokes I wasn’t meant to understand. The boys spoke of parties, girls, trouble they got into abroad, and the powerful connections they’d made. Their words were laced with arrogance, but everyone listened—because they were Ravenwoods, and everything they said was law in this house.

When they were done, plates were cleared, glasses refilled, and I helped carry the dishes back into the kitchen, my arms aching but my mind empty.

I didn’t think about their return. I didn’t think about the past.

I didn’t feel anything.

Not the sting of their words, not the heaviness in my chest. Nothing.

But later that night, as I peeled off my uniform and looked in the mirror, I saw the mark again.

Faint. Pale silver, almost glowing under the skin near my collarbone now. Not a birthmark. Not a scar.

It was something else.

I didn’t know what it meant. But it had appeared on my eighteenth birthday. And since then, I’d started hearing whispers when I closed my eyes.

The kind of whispers that felt like they weren’t meant for this world.

I reached up and touched it.

Then I turned off the light, lay down in my small bed beneath the stairs, and stared at the ceiling.

I didn’t feel anything.

And I could almost hear the wolves howling in the distance.