Chapter 15 Tobias
TOBIAS
“What are you guys doing right now?” Jasmine asks from the door.
Rowen, Ivy, and I look up from the television on Rowen’s dresser. We were watching a movie in his room, with Ivy and I on the beanbag and Rowen on his bed.
“Just chilling. Why?” Rowen says.
“You’re not working?”
“No, I’ve caught up.”
“Can you come downstairs then? All of you.”
“Yeah, sure. We’ll be right down.”
I stifle a yawn as I stretch. I had nearly fallen asleep before Jasmine came in, and the heavy weight of it still lingers. I struggle to move.
As Ivy gets up, I sink lower into the beanbag. “Mmm. Nope. Can’t go. The beanbag has claimed me.”
Rowen laughs, then reaches down to pull me up.
His breath ghosts warmly near my cheek as he wraps his arms around me.
He keeps it brief, since we have an audience, but his touch seems to linger as we break apart.
He’s been softer this week. Smiling more.
Relaxing in ways I don’t think he even notices.
Ivy has, though—commenting more than once how nice it is not to listen to Rowen grumble about winter all day, every day.
The days have settled into a rhythm, like the whole house has embraced a moment of peace.
Most mornings start with coffee and the faint cinnamon scent of Jasmine’s bread cooling on the counter.
Sage and Grant keep arguing over the drone in the living room while Forest rolls his eyes.
Snow keeps piling up on the deck, and Neal keeps shoveling it off.
It’s becoming a white fortress around the house.
At night, we settle around the table for a warm meal.
Jericho always joins us, even though he never eats.
It’s been calm. Easy. Nothing dramatic. No fights. No clubs. No heat under my skin threatening to break me open. I’ve even forgotten about the mark several times, only for someone to bump into it and remind me it’s still there.
It’s just been… life.
Normal, everyday life with amazing people. I didn’t know it could feel like this. Like my chest is big enough to hold a whole room full of laughter. That peace is loud in its own way.
And Rowen… he’s been everywhere.
Passing me mugs of hot cocoa without my asking. Sitting hip-to-hip at the kitchen table, or on the couch, or… well, pretty much anywhere. He never pulls away first, which means every time I do, my heart aches a little more.
Some nights I fall asleep beside him in his bed, my face tucked near the curve of his shoulder.
Other nights, I crash on the beanbag, our conversation running slow between us until I can’t keep my eyes open.
The nightmares still come, sharp and cold as ever.
I wake choking on them, braced for the loneliness and despair that always follows, but his hand finds mine every time.
When I struggle to come out of it, Rowen crawls into the beanbag with me, holding me.
He’s steady. Patient. Tender.
And gods, that does something to me. Something I can’t name. Something I’m afraid to analyze. I shouldn’t encourage this. I shouldn’t lean in so hard, yet pulling away is becoming impossible.
I don’t want to.
Ivy perks up as we descend the stairs. “Ohhh, I bet I know what this is!”
Rowen sniffs the air, then groans. “Oh, no.”
“What?” The smell of gingerbread hits me, making my mouth water.
Ivy bounces on her toes. “You’ll see! Come on!”
Rowen lags behind as I follow his sister. When I reach the kitchen, the scent intensifies into a heavenly blend of sugar, cinnamon, and molasses.
I pause. “Woah.”
The table has been transformed into a workstation with platters, cutting boards, and piping bags of white, red and green frosting. There are dozens of gingerbread pieces laid out in stacks in the middle, and bowls of gumdrops, licorice twists, and other candies spread throughout.
Jasmine smiles. “Welcome to the annual Clearwater Pack Gingerbread Night.”
I grin. “We’re building gingerbread houses?”
“A village, to be exact. We always pair up though, so we don’t end up with a dozen houses.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Ro, would you like to build with Tobias? I thought Ivy and I could team up this year.” The twinkle in her eye as she looks between us makes my heart do funny things.
Have they noticed how close Rowen and I are now?
Shit, have they noticed I’ve been sleeping in his room?
I’ve tried to slip out early every day, but then again, with this many people, someone is always awake.
“Can’t I just watch?” Rowen complains. “The table is already crowded.”
I gasp. “What! No, we are totally doing this!”
Grant and Forest are on the far end, pretending like they don’t care about their house, but their concentration gives them away. Grant’s light brows are pulled together in a thin line as he adds a line of icing to the roof. Evelyn is helping them, adding peppermint sticks for windows.
Next to them, Neal and Taren are assembling an elegant single-story house with a square roof while Aster is busy munching on broken cookie pieces in his highchair. The kid’s eyes are a little glazed over from the sugar.
Red and Sage are at the breakfast bar, and at the opposite end, Jericho and Evan are hunched together, gluing two pieces of gingerbread together with a glob of icing across the seam.
I pull a seat out in the middle. “Come on, Rowen.”
“Ugh, fine.” Rowen begrudgingly sits next to me, with Ivy on the other side.
The sound of jingle bells rings in my ears as Jasmine slides a headband on my head. She gives Rowen and Ivy a pair too, then moves around the table until we’re all wearing matching antlers.
I can’t stop smiling. “Where do I start?”
He hands me one of the smaller cutting boards. “We build them on these,” he says.
His annoyance melts away as we work together to assemble a simple rectangular base, adding a gumdrop trail and gingerbread trees.
His focus as he glues the pieces together with icing makes me chuckle.
For not wanting to participate, he’s sure determined to make the best house.
Rowen does everything with intent and purpose, while I just haphazardly glue gumdrops all over the place.
I grab a bag of red icing, adding little swirls around the windows. My heart skips a beat every time our legs bump under the table.
I focus on the trail, using licorice to create little arches along the walkway. When I feel Rowen staring at me, I turn and smile at him. “What?”
He shakes his head softly, cheeks turning a little red. “Nothing.”
Warmth blooms in my chest, and I bump him playfully.
“Help me with the roof,” he says, reaching for a larger piece of gingerbread.
Rowen attaches one side with a freshly filled icing bag, but as he starts down the other, he squeezes a little too hard. The bag explodes, and a glob of white frosting shoots straight into his hair.
Everyone freezes and the room goes silent—then I lose it.
I double over, laughing so hard I can barely breathe. Ivy, Jasmine and the others join in. Rowen just stares forward, dumbfounded, as frosting slides down the side of his head like a sugary icicle.
Slowly, he scrapes it off, and I’m suddenly fascinated with the careful way he handles the mess, even though he misses a big part of it.
“Wait.” I drag my thumb across his temple, smearing it into his hair instead of actually removing it. “Oops. I think I just made it worse.” I sputter helplessly. “Oh, my God. You’re gonna need a shower.”
He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. We all laugh again.
I offer him a napkin. He gets the worst of it off, then wipes his face. Tossing the napkins aside, he licks his fingers, finally shaking his head in amusement. Between the still-stunned expression, his soft smile, and the icing in his hair, I get the sudden urge to kiss him.
Gods, I want to.
So bad.
But not here. Not with everyone watching.
And definitely not when I still don’t know if it’s safe to want anything at all.
I swallow it down and reach for another candy cane instead. “Do you want to go shower or help me finish?”
He sighs. “We might as well finish.”
Behind us, Jericho and Evan are arguing. “It’s about the layers, Ev,” Jericho says. “If you want the second floor to hold, you have to secure the base. Build it up first, in layers. See?”
Taren freezes mid-bite of a gumdrop. Her eyes go wide. “Moons above,” she whispers, attention snapping to me.
Without another word, she circles the table and lifts my sleeve, fingers brushing the mark.
Pain lances up my arm. “Taren—”
“Hold still.” She leans in, eyes narrowed as she studies the mark. I try to pull away, but she grabs my arm tight. I wince.
“Taren,” Rowen says, almost as a warning.
“I was right,” she breathes. “Holy shit. I see it now!” Her golden eyes lift to mine. “It’s not a single sigil. It’s three.”
“What?”
She waves the others over. “Forest, Grant, come here.”
Their smiles fade as half the pack gathers around me. My pulse spikes, heat crawling up my neck as everyone stares.
So much for the good time.
“I don’t get it,” Grant says. “What am I supposed to see?”
Taren grabs a napkin from the table, sketching fast with one of the icing pens. “I thought it was one symbol, but it’s not. It’s three, but they’re layered,” she says, smiling up at Jericho.
The entire room is listening now.
“What does that mean?” Jasmine asks.
Taren points to her sketch. “The hexagon is a claiming rune, for ownership. The jagged line is a shielding ward, for protection. It prevents others from harming him. And this one… this curve means duration. It seals the bond for a length of time.”
Silence.
Rowen’s voice is low as he asks, “How long?”
“Well, that I don’t know, but I can—”
“It’s a life sentence,” I say, tugging at my sleeve. I can’t look at anyone, my throat tightening. “He said as much when he branded me.”
No one replies, the truth weighing heavy in the air.
“So Rip didn’t just mark Tobias. He—”
“Bound me, yeah.” I suppress a shiver. “I’m Rip’s property for as long as I live.”
“No, Toby. This is only a mark. One way. If it was a bond between two people, there would be evidence of it.”
“Whatever. He still thinks I’m his.”
She reaches for me again, lifting my sleeve.
I shove my chair back and step aside. “Don’t touch me!”
Her eyes widen. “I’m sorry.”
The apology is real, but I take another step back, then another.
“What’s the significance of the symbols overlapping?” Forest asks.
Taren’s voice softens. “Runes, or sigils like this, usually only touch at the joints. When they overlap, it can alter their meaning and their potency.”
“Making them stronger?”
“Yes.” She chews her lip. “The good news is runes like this require proximity or repeated contact. If Rip hasn’t touched or reinforced the sigil recently, it may be dormant. It doesn’t mean it’s gone; it just means it isn’t awake.”
A snarl tears from Rowen as he gets to his feet. “Rip will never touch Tobias again!”
The silence that follows is deafening.
“He’s still under our protection, Rowen,” Forest says calmly. “That’s not going to change. But this is good. It gives us a better chance of understanding what he did to—”
“I’m going to kill him,” Rowen snaps, fisting his hands. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” He turns to me, eyes lethal. “I am, Toby. I’m going to kill that asshole for what he did to you.”
Fear slithers up my spine—not of Rowen, but of everything. We were having fun, and now…
Now it’s back to everything being covered in darkness.
Without another word, I turn and run up the stairs.