FORBIDDEN

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 15

The apartment was filled with warmth, the kind that wasn’t just from the stove.

Sunlight streamed softly through the sheer curtains, casting golden patches across the wooden floor. The scent of garlic, onion, and ginger sizzled in the pan while Zhan moved around the kitchen with a practiced grace, humming a tune that had no name but lived in his bones. The soft crackle of frying oil mingled with the low murmur of the news on the TV, which no one was really listening to.

Behind him, sprawled on the couch with a book splayed across his lap, Yibo flipped pages lazily, one leg draped over the armrest, the other bouncing in rhythm to the quiet music from Zhan’s phone. His hoodie was half-on, his hair still a little messy from sleep.

“Don’t burn that,” Yibo called out without glancing up, a smirk playing on his lips.

Zhan rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his mouth. “I have it under control.”

But then—he didn’t.

He froze.

The spatula hovered mid-air. The scent of food dulled as a thick, unseen shift swept through the apartment like a silent exhale. The air, once cozy and familiar, turned dense — like the weight of memory had stepped into the room, wearing a mask made of shadows. Something curled at the edge of Zhan’s senses — a warning he hadn’t felt in years.

His skin prickled.

The hum of the news faded into white noise.

“Yibo,” he said, voice suddenly tight, stripped of its playfulness. His eyes locked on the front door. “Stay in the kitchen. Please.”

Yibo blinked. “Why? What’s—”

“Just stay.”

There was no room for argument in his tone. It was the voice of someone who had survived too much.

Zhan didn’t even grab a weapon.

He didn’t need one.

He moved toward the front door just as the elevator on their floor dinged. The moment felt suspended — like time itself held its breath.

He yanked the door open the instant footsteps stopped.

And there he was.

A tall figure stood in the hallway, a dark duffel bag slung over one shoulder, hair wind-tousled, boots dusted with dried dirt and morning cold. He looked like a memory that had clawed its way back to life.

The man’s mouth twisted into a slow, knowing grin.

“Well damn,” he said smoothly. “Still sharp. Didn’t think you’d sense me that fast.”

Zhan stepped out, closing the door behind him with a hard click.

“What the hell are you doing here, Ren?”

Ren let the bag drop to the floor with a thud that echoed faintly through the quiet hall. “Transfer order. I’m your new shadow. Direct from the Alpha.”

“No one told me.”

Ren shrugged. “They figured you’d react like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like someone who’s been too cozy playing house.”

Zhan’s expression darkened. “I’ve done everything they asked.”