Chapter 16
ROWAN
The helicopter touches down on the front lawn with a thrum that vibrates through my ribs.
Wind kicks up flakes of frost and torn pine needles, scattering them across the grass like confetti for a celebration I’m not sure I’m ready to attend.
The world blurs for a moment, and then the blades slow, and reality catches up with me.
NightShade Manor.
Something in my chest recognizes the place instantly, pulling taut like a cord that’s been stretched for too long.
But another part of me recoils. It feels foreign now—too open, too bright, too alive after weeks of being captive.
Like I’ve stepped out of the shadows and sunlight is a razor scraping across my skin.
Cade helps me down, his palm warm on my lower back. Marius stays close but respectful, hanging back with the awkwardness of a father who desperately wants to protect but doesn’t know the rules yet.
Wolf’s presence piques. Why are you not sure you want to be here?
I don’t know, I answer honestly. I’m not the same person I was when I left.
That’s a good thing, she reminds me gently.
I know she’s right, but it doesn’t lessen the uncomfortableness coursing through me.
It’s probably just that Malrik hasn’t resurfaced yet. I don’t like that he just let me go. The longer I’ve thought about my escape, the more certain I am that he should have been able to stop me. He might have his limits, but The Keep isn’t one of them. At least not from what I’ve seen.
Did he let me go on purpose, and I’ve just walked into another one of his traps?
I don’t know that either, and I think that’s what’s bothering me most.
If I’ve done something else he wanted, I’m not sure what I’ll do.
Especially if it ends up hurting anyone I care about. Again.
I swallow hard and step toward the front doors of the manor.
They swing open before we reach them, and I stiffen.
Cade sticks close to me, but Iris pays him no attention. She bursts out in a rush of lavender perfume and frantic energy, nearly tripping on the steps. “Rowan!” She barrels toward me like a heat-seeking missile and smothers me in a hug that smells like old books and citrus cleaner.
“Hi, Iris,” I murmur, resting my chin briefly against the silver hair covering her shoulder. For all the unease twisting inside me, I’ve missed her. Her wildness. Her unique warmth. Her absolute refusal to behave like a normal grandmother.
She pulls back and holds me at arm’s length, scanning me the way only Iris can—rapid, clinical, and offended on my behalf.
“How are you?” she demands.
“I’m okay.” It’s a lie. And she knows it.
She squeezes my biceps hard enough to make my eyes water.
“Don’t you lie to me, young lady. I can feel it.
” Her gaze sharpens. “You’re thinner. Your aura is frazzled.
Your hair is limp, and you’re pasty.” She leans closer, squinting.
“But not in the adorable cream-puff way of the pastries I made while waiting for you to arrive.”
I laugh—a broken sound, but it’s real.
“I apologize for not getting sun or hitting the salon before I returned,” I drone. “I’ll be sure to get right on that.”
She waves a hand as if I’m the unhinged one. “We don’t have time for that. Now—” she pivots abruptly, scanning behind me “—how’s my other girl?”
Iris sidesteps me, and it’s a relief to have the attention off me.
Liz hobbles toward us like a disgruntled newborn deer.
She’s thawed, but not gracefully. She might not run as hot as wolf shifters, but her internal temperature is still far lower than normal, which she’s blaming on her lack of food.
Her movements are jerky and stiff. She’s wrapped so tightly in a blanket that she resembles an irritable burrito with fangs.
“Yes, I’ve come back from the brink of death,” she announces, lifting her chin as if daring anyone to challenge her dramatics. “But I’ll be fine as soon as I get to my room.”
She stumbles mid-sentence. Elias moves on instinct, reaching to steady her, but she snaps her sharp teeth at him with a dangerous click.
“Don’t even think about carrying me again,” she warns, wobbling but undeterred. “I will bite you this time.”
“Right,” he says slowly, stepping back with the patience of a saint or maybe just someone who’s been traumatized recently. “You currently can’t even move your eyebrows.”
Iris pats the side of her fanny pack—the one she’s refilled with who knows what—before speaking. “Well, I refilled my glitter. I can at least make you sparkly.” She barks out a laugh that’s almost too loud. “A sparkly vampire. Can you imagine?”
I grin. Gods, I really did miss her.
I’ll remind you of that when she’s tossing glitter at one of us, Wolf says with a grumble.
Truth.
Still, the warmth in my chest is undeniable. After everything…after nearly losing myself, losing them…this moment feels like stepping into paradise. So long as I don’t think too hard.
“Iris, I don’t know if the others told you or not,” I start to say, but she takes care of re-introductions herself.
“Marius Landry.” She smirks, glancing around me. “You haven’t aged well. Probably all that time with nature.”
“It’s good to see you as well, Iris,” he replies dryly. “I see you’ve grown more comfortable with our kind.”
She shrugs, utterly unbothered. “Being near the end of my time means I don’t have much to lose by not kissing your ass any longer.”
Marius lifts a brow. “Noted.”
His attention shifts outward, scanning the tree line with the precision of someone who’s lived in survival mode for years. “This place feels different.”
“You feel different,” Iris says brightly and then blinks as if surprised by her own words. A flicker of something I can’t read crosses her face.
Cade meets my gaze, brows drawn, but neither of us comments on it.
“Can we please go inside now?” Liz mutters. “I’d like a gallon of blood and a boiling bath before we unpack the emotional trauma buffet we all apparently brought home.”
Her exhaustion shows now—not just physically, but in the way her voice dips lower. Dark circles shadow her eyes. Her shoulders slump as if she’s finally conceding that maybe, just maybe, she should’ve let Elias carry her again.
“I’ll walk with you,” I tell her gently, stepping to her side. “Make sure you have everything you need.”
Then I turn to Cade. “Meet you in my room?”
He nods, leaning down to press a warm kiss to the top of my head. His hand slides briefly between my shoulder blades—steadying, grounding—before releasing me.
“I’ll take Archie with me,” he says.
I almost tell him no, but when Archie doesn’t even flinch from being moved from his place around my neck, I keep quiet. I still don’t know what any of them really went through being out in that twisted, snow-infested forest all that time, but I can’t imagine it’s been easy on any of them.
Rest is going to be needed for all of us.
“I’ll join you ladies,” Iris says, going up the steps so quickly that she misses when Liz’s face falls, but I don’t.
“Actually, I think it would be better with just me,” I tell Iris. “We can all get together for dinner tonight.”
I expect her to object, but surprisingly, she doesn’t. There’s another long blink before she turns for the house, heading away from the stairs and toward the hallway.
That was almost too easy, but I don’t have the energy to figure out if I’ve hurt her feelings.
Cade and Elias fall into step behind us, but when we reach Liz’s room, they continue down the hall, shoulders brushing, tension still radiating off both of them.
A thought slams into me hard enough to make my head whip around. “Where’s Marius?”
“I saw him follow Iris,” Cade says, looking back at me. “Do you want me to go get him?”
I shake my head quickly. “Just making sure he wasn’t waiting awkwardly outside.”
I’m not sure how comfortable he’s going to feel here, but I make a mental note to check on him privately at some point tonight.
Inside Liz’s room, she wastes exactly zero seconds. The moment the door clicks shut, she practically crawls toward her minibar like a starving raccoon discovering a dumpster buffet.
“Gods, I’ve needed this,” she rasps as she yanks open the tiny fridge. “Over four decades of being a vampire and I’ve never—”
She doesn’t finish. She’s already tearing into a blood bag with her fangs, guzzling like she’s dying of thirst. In her defense, she probably is.
I half expect to be horrified, but honestly? It’s impressive. And a little hilarious. Especially when she slouches to the floor with the second bag and lets out a noise that sounds questionable at best.
I head to the bathroom to start her bath, and when I return, a third bag hangs drained from her fingers while she sips the fourth like it’s a fine wine.
She finally pauses, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Sorry. If I hadn’t been frozen solid most of that time, I’d have dried out completely. You’d have found a shriveled-up version of me. Honestly, I’m surprised I made it this long.”
I kneel beside her. “What’s the longest you’ve gone before?”
“Six days,” she says without hesitation. “After that, my skin started to wrinkle.” She twists her arm, grimacing. “It was only just starting this time. The inside was worse. Pure agony.”
That explains the extra snark she didn’t try to hold back earlier.
“Want help getting to the bath?” I offer my hand.
Her palm presses to mine, cool now instead of ice-cold, but she doesn’t rise yet. Her eyes soften. “I’m sorry I yelled earlier. Normally, I’m more controlled than that. The pain… I think it made me a little more Iris-like.”
I laugh. “I already assumed as much, and you had every right. Honestly, I think we all have a reason to be a little Iris-like after the last couple of weeks.”
She gives me a once-over. “You’re really okay? Like as okay as you can be?” I nod with a smile, and she adds, “What about with Marius being here? How did that even happen?”
“He found me after I escaped The Keep,” I tell her. “He thought he was tracking my mom, but he found me instead.”
“Oh, Ro.” Her eyes shimmer. “I’m sorry for both of you. I wish Jocelyn had been there, too.”
She pushes herself to her feet—wobbly but determined.
“I’m going to find that bath now. You should go find your mate.
He wasn’t okay without you. The house mostly repaired itself, but that first day…
” She shakes her head. “If he’s extra asshole-like, maybe be a little gentle with him. Just not for too long.”
The words land like a soft blow, warm and painful all at once. “Thanks, Liz. Really.”
“Always,” she says before disappearing into the bathroom.
When I step back into the hallway, exhaustion drags at every muscle, but it evaporates the second I enter my room.
Cade stands at the window, shoulders tense, watching the last streaks of sun sink behind the tree line. He turns slowly—almost cautiously—like he’s afraid of spooking me.
But I don’t hesitate.
Everything between us is different now—sharper, deeper, and rawer. The tether between us hums with a certainty I didn’t understand before.
No more resisting. No more second-guessing. No more fear.
No more human emotions.
This man is mine, and I’m his.
I need his warmth like I need air.
He opens his arms without a word—as if he’s been waiting to breathe until I stepped into the room—and I go to him, fitting myself against his chest like I was built for this space.
His chin rests on my hair, his arms wrapping fully around me, steadying the tremor I didn’t realize had taken hold of my bones.
The world outside NightShade—the cold, the fear, the castle, the choices I made to survive—fades beneath the steady beat of his heart.
For the first time since I left this house, I feel the ground under me again. Solid. Certain. Safe… But not because I’m fragile. Because I’m home. Because I’m not facing any of this alone anymore.