Rooming with the Enemy

Kerensa's POV Here’s the full rewrite, keeping the same POV, plot, characters, confrontation, disguise tension, shower scene, and final beat while smoothing the prose and making Kerensa’s voice feel more immediate and human.

A wave of heat rushes up my throat.

Panic. Rage. Hatred.

I swallow hard, forcing it back down until the metallic taste coats my tongue.

I let my duffel hit the floor.

Thud.

Both of them turn.

Our eyes meet, and for a second, nobody moves. The room feels too quiet. I can hear my own breathing, fast and loud in my ears.

Then recognition hits them.

First shock.

Then disbelief.

"Rhys?" Hunter's voice is low, almost a rumble. "Is that really you?"

Xavier doesn't say a word.

His dark eyes move over me, studying. Measuring.

He was always the observant one. The one who noticed everything and said almost nothing. Calculating. Careful.

Dangerous.

I clench my hands at my sides and force my face to stay blank.

I look past them, toward the window.

Silence.

Let it stretch.

Hunter takes a step closer.

A slow grin spreads across his handsome face.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in."

I don't respond.

"We heard you and your mom took off. That you'd disappeared." His gaze moves over me again. "So what are you doing here, Rhys? Come back to prove you still got it?"

I bend down, pick up my duffel, and walk past him.

I don't look at him.

I don't even acknowledge that he's there.

I head for the empty bed.

Behind me, I can feel his irritation building.

"Still not much of a talker, I see."

His voice has changed.

The teasing edge is gone.

"Some things never change."

I start unpacking.

"You're different, though."

I fold a shirt.

"Thinner."

Another shirt.

"Smaller."

I keep my eyes on the clothes.

"What happened to the hockey star everyone used to talk about?"

Nothing.

"Did you get scared?"

My fingers pause for half a second.

"Did you run away and hide like a little girl?"

There it is.

The insult lands exactly where he wants it to.

I refuse to give him anything.

Not a flinch.

Not a glare.

Nothing.

Hunter always knew how to find a weak spot.

What he doesn't know is that he's looking for the wrong person.

He circles me slowly.

I can feel his eyes moving over me.

"I guess life on the run will do that to you."

He stops behind me.

"It's tough out there for a packless wolf. Especially when you're all alone."

I keep folding.

He leans closer.

"My father still asks about your family sometimes, you know."

My hands go still.

"He says the case never sat right with him. There were too many questions nobody answered before your mom packed you both up in the middle of the night."

His voice drops.

"I always wondered about that myself."

I stare at the shirt in my hands.

"What about your little sister, Kerensa?"

My entire body locks.

"She know something the rest of us don't?"

The name hits harder than it should.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Hard.

Pain shoots through my mouth, grounding me before the anger can take over.

He will not get a reaction.

Not over this.

Not ever again.

I unzip my duffel and pull out another shirt.

Fold.

Stack.

Fold.

Stack.

Anything to keep my hands busy.

I remember how he used to say her name.

Kerensa.

He could turn it into a weapon with two syllables.

I won't let him do that anymore.

"Oh, nothing to say to that either?"

Hunter sounds almost amused.

Then something flickers in his eyes.

Uncertainty.

He hides it quickly.

"Cat got your tongue?"

I say nothing.

"Or are you still scared of us?"

My jaw tightens.

"After all these years, you're still the same pathetic little boy who couldn't even protect his own sister."

My hands curl into fists.

Hunter's breathing changes.

He wants a reaction.

My silence is making him angrier.

"Say something."

His voice rises.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

I keep folding the shirt.

My nails dig into my palms.

If he says her name again, I don't know what I'll do.

And that scares me more than anything else he's said.

"That's enough, Hunter."

Xavier.

His voice is colder than I remember.

Sharper.

It still affects me the same way.

He's always been the one with control. The one who could silence Hunter with a single sentence.

Somehow, Xavier's cold indifference always hurt more than Hunter's cruelty.

Hunter turns toward him, his face flushed.

"Why? I'm just making conversation."

He throws his hands up.

"It's not every day you run into a ghost from your past."

"He's not a ghost."

Xavier's eyes stay on me.

"He's here. And he's trying out. Just like us."

The meaning settles between us.

We're competitors now.

Rivals.

And rivals don't room together.

They don't talk about what happened seven years ago.

They definitely don't become friends.

Hunter lets out a frustrated breath and scrubs a hand through his wild blond curls.

"Fine. Whatever."

He grabs his things.

"I'm going for a run. Don't wait up."

He shoots me one last venomous look before walking out.

The door slams behind him.

Silence.

Heavy, uncomfortable silence.

I finally breathe.

Then I pick up my duffel and move to the bed closest to the door.

Xavier is still watching me.

I can feel it.

"He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

His voice is different now.

Softer.

Almost gentle.

He takes a step closer.

"Don't let him."

I keep unpacking.

My hands feel stiff.

Automatic.

I pull out another shirt and fold it even though it's already folded.

My eyes burn.

I blink quickly.

No.

I'm not crying.

I'm not.

I bite the inside of my cheek again until I taste blood.

"He doesn't mean it," Xavier says.

I don't look at him.

"He's just..."

He pauses.

"He's Hunter."

That almost makes me laugh.

Almost.

"He's been carrying his own guilt about that night longer than you'd think. It comes out sideways. He doesn't think before he speaks."

"Doesn't he?"

My voice comes out quieter than I expect.

I turn around.

"Because it sounded to me like he meant every word."

Xavier's expression changes.

Guilt.

Real guilt.

"We were cruel to you."

His eyes drop for a second.

"To your sister, Kerensa. I know that."

My real name.

On his lips.

My stomach drops.

I take an involuntary step backward.

For a second, I'm not in this room.

I'm somewhere else.

Somewhere I'm younger.

Somewhere I don't know how to protect myself yet.

"I..."

Xavier swallows.

"I'm sorry."

The words barely leave his mouth.

"For all of it. For everything."

I stare at him.

Xavier doesn't apologize.

Not ever.

I don't know what to do with this version of him.

My anger slips for half a second, replaced by something far more uncomfortable.

Disbelief.

"Sorry doesn't change anything."

My voice is colder now.

Harder.

"I know."

He looks at the floor.

"But it's all I have."

I turn away.

I don't want his apology.

I don't want his guilt.

I want justice.

And I'll do whatever it takes to get it.

I finish unpacking without another word.

Then I grab my toiletry bag and a clean towel.

"I'm going to take a shower."

My voice is flat.

"Don't follow me."

I don't wait for an answer.

I walk into the bathroom and lock the door.

The second the lock clicks, my body gives up pretending.

I lean against the door.

I'm shaking.

I close my eyes and breathe.

Once.

Twice.

Only then do I start undressing.

I pull off my shirt first.

Then the binding.

I unwind it layer by layer, working quickly and automatically despite the tremor in my fingers.

The fabric leaves faint red marks across my ribs.

For one unguarded second, I stand there completely bare, shaking.

I hate how small I feel without it.

Exposed.

Vulnerable.

This is the one place where I should be able to let my guard down.

And yet I can't stay here.

Not for long.

I step beneath the shower before the water is even warm.

The cold makes me hiss.

I start scrubbing immediately.

Fast.

Hard.

I keep one ear tuned to everything happening outside.

A floorboard creaks.

My heart jumps.

Another sound.

I freeze.

Then force myself to keep washing.

I'm being ridiculous.

Except I'm not.

When I finally shut off the water, I grab the towel and dry myself as quickly as possible.

Then I reach for the binding.

My fingers aren't as steady as I'd like.

I wrap it around my ribs.

Tighter.

Again.

I secure it and reach for my shirt.

My heartbeat is loud in my ears.

Then—

BANG.

I jump.

Someone pounds on the bathroom door hard enough to rattle the frame.

"Yo. Rhys."

Hunter.

Of course.

"You planning on living in there?"

My hands stop halfway through adjusting the binding.

I stare at the door.

He can't see through it.

He can't.

"One second!"

My voice sounds too thin.

I hate it.

"Man, come on."

Another pound.

Harder.

"I gotta go. Like, now. Some of us don't have all night to stand around admiring ourselves in the mirror."

I yank the binding tighter.

Tuck the end into place.

Grab my shirt from the hook.

Pull it over my head.

My pulse is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

If he opens that door—

If he sees me before everything is covered—

It's over.

Here.

In a bathroom.

With wet hair and a towel on the floor.

"Use the one down the hall," I call.

"The one down the hall has a line out the door. That's why I'm here."

I close my eyes.

A pause.

Then his voice comes again, quieter this time.

"What are you even doing in there? You've been in there twenty minutes."

Another pause.

"What are you hiding?"

My stomach twists.

He has no idea how close he just got.

For a second, I can't answer.

"Give me a minute," I snap.

I reach for my pants, nearly fumbling them in my hurry.

"You've had a minute."

I hear him sigh dramatically.

"You've had ten of them."

Then—

Thud.

His forehead hits the door.

"I'm going to start narrating my suffering out here if you don't hurry up."

"You're so dramatic."

The words almost slip out.

I stop myself.

Almost.

"Hunter."

Xavier's voice comes from farther away.

Flat.

Exasperated.

"Let the man shower in peace."

"I would love to let the man shower in peace if the man's shower wasn't standing between me and a medical emergency."

Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitches.

I hate that.

I quickly check myself in the mirror.

Once.

Twice.

I look for anything out of place.

Any hint the shirt might not hide.

Any shadow.

Any mistake.

Nothing obvious.

Good enough.

It has to be.

I finish getting dressed and reach for the door.

I take one breath.

Then another.

Finally, I unlock it.

When I pull the door open, Hunter is leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

One eyebrow is raised.

"Finally."

He pushes past me before I've even fully stepped aside.

"I take it back. Twenty minutes was generous."

I don't answer.

I grab my things and retreat toward my curtained bed.

Only now does my heartbeat begin to slow.

For once, I'm grateful Hunter's only concern was a full bladder.