Chapter 27 — Rhiannon
Everything has changed in only a day. It’s been twenty-four hours since I sent Ethan away with that performative detachment, and now his absence eats at me.
He’s taken all his meals with Thea since then, instead of joining me and the other guards.
He finds a way to slip out of the room when I enter and avoids the common areas so we don’t cross paths.
During this morning’s training session, he positioned himself where Branson and Conan could instruct him, never seeking my guidance.
His easy laughter with them cut through me like a blade whenever I heard it.
Meanwhile I sit here drowning in silence.
This is what you wanted. It’s better this way.
There are no more distractions from my duties as Commander, no complications that could destroy what little respect I’ve managed to sustain after my outbursts at both Xander and Lady Gemma.
Focus on clearing Jayme’s name. That’s what matters.
My thoughts keep circling back to the seers’ visions of Blackroot. Lady Gemma’s extensive knowledge of Lycan history might illuminate connections we’re missing, but I need Ethan’s analytical mind to catch details that could slip past me.
My wolf perks up as I head toward his quarters, eager and alert in a way that embarrasses me.
Traitor.
Every logical part of me screams to turn around, find another way, but I know that failing to use every resource available wouldn’t be fair to Jayme.
Keep it about the investigation. Nothing personal. I rehearse in my mind how to frame this professionally as I reach his chamber door.
“No, Marko,” Ethan’s cheery voice carries through the partially open door. I freeze with my hand raised in mid-air to knock. “I won’t need all of this. I’m leaving after the summit anyway.”
“Such a shame, sir,” replies Marko, one of the chamber servants. “You seem to have settled in well.”
Ethan chuckles. “On the bright side, you won’t have to worry about mending my shredded training clothes again. I swear you Lycans can tear fabric just by looking at it.”
“I’ll miss the challenge, sir. Your clothes kept my stitching skills sharp.”
“It’s been a nice change of scenery, but it’s time for me to go home.” He speaks as if he’s discussing the end of a weekend getaway rather than a permanent departure.
Go home? He’s leaving us. My wolf tears through my chest with a howl so raw it burns through every nerve. She claws at my ribs, furious, frantic, as if she could physically stop him. He’s abandoning us.
I shut my wolf down hard, locking her protests behind mental walls until her howling fades to a muted whimper. This changes nothing. It’s what we wanted.
I give two sharp raps on the door, and push it open without waiting for permission.
Marko startles, then bows quickly. “Commander.” He clutches folded clothing against his chest and scurries past me out the door, leaving Ethan and me alone.
Ethan doesn’t even look surprised to see me standing there. “Commander.”
“So, you’re leaving.” The words escape before I can stop them.
He turns from the window, his expression emotionless. “After the summit, yes.”
“Without telling anyone?”
“I told Thea.” He leans against the windowsill. “Plus, wasn’t that the plan all along? I won’t have a reason to be here after the summit is over. Thea’s the only one who cares anyway.”
The casual dismissal drives straight through me. “The only one who cares?”
“Come on, Rhiannon.” His voice hardens. “You’ve made it pretty clear where we stand. Professional distance. Mission first. Right?”
“This isn’t just about us—”
“It’s never about us!” The words explode from him. “I see that, in every look, every conversation, every time you pretend I don’t exist unless you need something. That’s why you’re here now, isn’t it? You need something else for the investigation.”
Heat flares in my chest, though I know he’s right. “You’re the one who’s been avoiding me!”
“Because you told me that I was a mistake!” His jade-colored eyes flash with hurt and anger. “You made your choice. I’m just respecting it.”
“By treating me like the villain?”
“By knowing when I’m not wanted.” He closes the gap between us. “You think I don’t realize how the others see me? I’m the meddling human who put their Commander in danger.”
“That’s not—”
“I was never meant to stay here. I’m not even supposed to know that Clarion exists, remember? I’m not going to stick around until the Alpha King decides I’ve outlived my usefulness.”
My wolf snarls at the pain in his voice, but I force my expression to remain calm. “So, you’re giving up then?”
“You gave up first.” His laugh sounds bitter. “I’m just finally being realistic. I’m not one of you. Don’t try to contradict me. Don’t say anything. I’ve made my decision, and I’ll be gone after the summit.”
The finality in his voice is like a fist to my chest.
This is exactly what I thought was best, right?
Clarion is no place for a human. With Ethan gone, my life is simplified, no more tough choices or conflicting responsibilities.
But hearing him say I’m losing him is like losing a piece of myself I never knew I had, and I’m doing everything in my power to keep my wolf from flying into a panic attack.
The truth hovers on my tongue. I want to tell him to stay, that the thought of him leaving splits me in two, that just the past day alone without his constant presence has been torture.
But I can’t say that. I can’t give him hope for something that will only destroy us both.
“You’re right. This is what’s best for you to ensure your safety.”
He nods, though defiance still lurks in his eyes. “Agreed.”
“But you’ll continue to help me with Jayme?”
“Yes, of course. For Jayme’s sake.”
“Right, and we’ll stop avoiding each other? For Jayme’s sake.”
He nods, looking at the floor.
I shove down the urge to pull him in close, to demand that he reconsider, to fight for what we could still have. Instead, I lock everything up and slink behind my rank and title.
“Good. I do need your help with something related to Jayme’s case.”
“Sure.” His voice reverts back to being flat and neutral. “What do you need?”
“I want to ask Lady Gemma what she knows about Blackroot.”
“Blackroot?”
“Yes. When I spoke with the seers, Mahal mentioned repeatedly seeing Blackroot in their visions.”
Ethan’s eyebrows lift, his interest piqued. “Dr. Olcan said Holden gave him a box of Blackroot when they arrived. Do you think it could have done something to Jayme?”
“I doubt it.” I blow out a breath, folding my arms as frustration builds.
We’re chasing shadows with nothing solid to grab onto.
“It’s a harmless herb that we use to make tea.
Thea once compared it to a popular drink that she served at the diner in the Outer Lands, one that’s commonly consumed in the mornings. ”
“You mean coffee?”
“Yes, I believe so. It’s a mild stimulant. Nothing more.”
“You sure?”
I shrug. “Everyone drinks it to some extent. I personally don’t like the taste, but it’s very common in Kortan. If there was any chance it could drive wolves insane, I think we would know. Did Olcan say anything about it?”
Ethan shakes his head. “No, just that it could be used for medicinal purposes and he’s interested in researching it.” He pauses for a few moments before continuing, “But if it’s only used for tea, why would it appear in the seers vision?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “It might not be connected to anything. But, at this point, we’re running out of leads. Lady Gemma knows more about our heritage than anyone else in the pack, so she’s our best option for making sense of all of this.”
Ethan goes quiet for a moment. “You know, Doc said that magic is something that’s just. . .in the air here. Like a mist.”
A nod. “Yes, that’s true.”
“And wolves don’t have any kind of biological connection to that mist.”
“No.”
He looks up at me abruptly. “What about the seers then? How do they have visions if they’re not connected to magic?”
“It’s not the same.” I struggle with finding the right words. “Seers are an exception. Their powers are extremely limited, and they come from the Moon Goddess.”
“But they’re connected to magic?”
“Yes. . .but no, not really.” How do I explain Moon Goddess theology to a human? I barely understand it myself. “I’m honestly not sure. I don’t think it’s the same kind of magic.”
The spark of realization lights up his features. “But it is possible they might be connected to magic. Couldn’t they be susceptible to mind magic, then?”
“Are you implying Jayme is a seer?”
“Could he be?” He tilts his head at me.
“If he is, why would he hide such a thing?” My thoughts spill out as they form. “If Jayme were a seer, his rank in the pack would be much higher, and he would be more respected. Branson would love for his brother to be in a safer position, so concealing such a gift would serve no purpose.”
Ethan sighs. “Yeah, that makes sense. There’s no reason for them to hide it if they want to demonstrate their loyalty to Alpha Xander. I guess I’m just still holding out hope that Jayme didn’t know what he was doing.”
That draws a small smile from me. “Me too.”
For just a moment, everything is normal again. The way he tilts his head when he’s thinking, the fore in his eyes when he connects pieces of information — this is the man I fell for.
This is how it should be. We should be working as a team, our minds in sync.
My wolf practically purrs with the familiar rhythm of our partnership, making me forget the careful walls I’ve placed between us.
“You’re right.” He straightens, and that careful distance settles back over his features like armor. “We should speak to Lady Gemma. Lead the way, Commander.”
The moment is gone. His formal use of my title stings. But, this is exactly how it has to be.
As we walk without a word through the corridors toward Lady Gemma’s chambers, the space between us feels infinite, despite our relative proximity. Each step we take brings us closer to his departure.