Chapter 28 #2
His hand tightens on my knee, not hard, but alert. Focused.
“Someone’s here,” he says quietly, a faint look crosses his face that tells me someone from the pack is speaking to him. “A magic user. Powerful.” His gaze flicks toward the windows, the walls. “Stephanie doesn’t recognize him.”
A pulse of unease rolls through my chest.
“He’s not stopping,” Cade adds.
Elias is already on his feet. Cade follows, napkin abandoned on the table. Liz swears under her breath as she pushes her chair back, Marius rising last, slower but coiled like a drawn blade.
I stand as well, right when Iris throws her hands up, exasperated.
“Oh, calm your biscuits, all of you,” she says briskly. “That’s just Jacob.”
The room freezes.
The name lands wrong. Too casual and easy.
It’s the second time she’s mentioned it, but now it crawls across my skin like something alive.
“Who is Jacob, Iris?” Liz asks carefully.
Iris waves a hand, already moving toward the door. “You know him. Or you did.” She pauses, frowning slightly, as if the memory isn’t sitting quite where it should. “He stayed here about a year ago. A warlock. The nicest man. Quiet and polite and…”
My pulse starts to thud in my ears.
“We shouldn’t leave him standing out in the cold,” Iris continues cheerfully. “That would be rude.”
“Iris,” Cade starts.
But she’s already halfway down the hall.
The house shifts as she goes.
Not loudly. Just enough that the candles flicker and the air feels thinner.
I don’t move.
Because suddenly I understand why Stephanie doesn’t recognize him.
Why Cade’s wolf is on edge. Why my skin is screaming.
And why the name Jacob feels like a lie wearing a smile.
We all follow, faster than walking but not quite a run. Yet, we don’t manage to catch Iris before she reaches for the door.
“No!” I call out, but she doesn’t hear me. Or maybe she does and doesn’t understand why it matters.
My stomach drops, but Wolf is right there with me, ready to act.
The doorknob turns, the cold air rushes in, and beyond the threshold, from the shadows of the night, Jacob steps forward.
He looks ordinary.
Tall, dark-haired, dressed in a long coat and worn boots, like he’s walked a long way to get here. His face is open, pleasant, and his smile warm in a way that should be reassuring.
It isn’t.
The air around him hums—not with power flaring outward, but curbed. Like everything he is has been folded neatly inward.
“Jacob,” Iris says brightly. “You made it.”
He inclines his head to her, polite to the point of reverent. “I wouldn’t miss your invitation.”
Oh, Iris. What have you done?
“Is that—” Cade starts to ask, but I cut him off.
“Why are you here?” I demand, my voice sharp enough to slice through the moment.
His attention shifts to me, and when his eyes meet mine, there’s only satisfaction. Like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.
He smiles wider.
“Because I was invited.”
He gestures gently toward Iris, who has stepped aside to usher him in, completely unaware that everyone else in the room has gone still.
“Jacob?” Iris repeats, frowning faintly as she studies his face. “You look…different.”
“No, Iris,” I say quietly, my pulse roaring in my ears. “That’s not Jacob.”
She turns to me, confusion deepening. “Well, yes, it is. He… he stayed here and…”
I don’t take my eyes off him.
“No, Iris,” I repeat. “That’s Malrik.”
The name lands like a dropped bomb.
The warmth drains from the room. The lights flicker violently, bending away from him, as if instinctively recoiling. The air thickens, pressing against my skin.
The manor knows, and so do I.
Malrik sighs—actually sighs—as if disappointed.
“You do know how to ruin my fun, Rowan,” he says mildly.
Several things happen at once, but then not at all.
Cade and Marius both make moves, yet neither of them makes it further than a couple of steps.
A roar fills the room.
“Let me go and see who wins in a fair fight,” Cade snarls, fighting against an invisible hold.
Malrik clicks his tongue. “Why fight fair when power is so much more entertaining?” He reaches out and presses two fingers to Iris’s forehead. “I’m done with you.”
“No!” I shout, despair crashing through me all at once.
But Iris doesn’t collapse.
She stumbles instead, blinking hard, her breath hitching as if she’s surfacing from deep water. When she straightens, something sharp and furious lights her eyes.
“You,” she snaps. “What are you doing in my house?”
Malrik laughs softly. “Oh, Iris. You were so fun.”
I take another step forward, but my legs feel like they’re wading through wet cement. Malrik’s magic pulls at me—not enough to stop me completely, just enough to slow me down. Like he wants me to see this.
“What did you do to them?” I ask, my voice shaking with fury as I reach for my power, careful not to lash out until I’m confident I won’t hurt my family.
Malrik smiles like I’ve pleased him. “I gave us the time we need,” he says, calm as a storm’s eye. “The time you stole when you so rudely fled my home without saying goodbye.”
His gaze flicks to the right, then back to me. “I believe your father has something to share.”
I look over at him, and my heart lurches.
Marius is on the floor, his body locked in a half-shift. Fur crawls along his arms, claws jutting where fingers should be, his wolf fighting to break free. His neck is twisted at an angle that makes my stomach churn.
“He has her,” Marius rasps, teeth gritted against the magic crushing him.
“Well, most of her anyway,” Malrik mutters with glee as my breath catches.
I don’t want to ask who her is because my heart already knows, and I’m not sure I can take the confirmation. Still, I do. “Who?”
“Your mother,” he snarls. “I smell her on him.”
My vision blurs, my soul splinters, and I swear the floor buckles beneath me, but I force myself to remain upright, fighting the truth of this moment. “That’s not possible. She…”
“Died?” Malrik finishes smoothly. “Yes, her heart stopped beating, but does that really make one dead, Rowan? You might have thought so before because you were blissfully ignorant of the world you were always destined for, but do you think so still?”
I step forward, barely breaking through his magic, fury detonating inside my chest. “You bastard. I’ll kill you,” I breathe, my power surging, wild and incandescent, as I search to destroy his hold over us. “I swear I’ll—”
Malrik chuckles softly, like I’ve paid him a compliment.
“Or,” he says gently, “you could join me. Just like your mother did.”
Cold spreads through my veins.
She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Not willingly. Not after everything she sacrificed to keep me safe.
Malrik doesn’t move closer. He doesn’t need to. He remains near the door, perfectly still, existing where he has no right to be.
“The choice is yours, little wolf,” he murmurs. “But understand this.” His eyes gleam. “Every inch of Jocelyn belongs to me now.”
Her name rips through me like a blade.
Before I can move. Before I can say another word.
Malrik vanishes.
No flash. No sound.
Just absence.
“Rowan?” Cade says beside me, his touch suddenly on me, checking me over with both hands.
But I can’t answer him.
I can’t even breathe.
Because there’s only one thought left in my mind—one that splits me open and leaves nothing standing.
My mother might be alive.
And if she is, Malrik has her.
But why and what has he done to her?
Most importantly, how soon can I kill him for it?
Thank you so much for reading Claws and Bonds!