Chapter 21
ROWEN
The weeks after Christmas pass by in a blur—quiet, calm days rolling into the next. But calm has never lasted long for us. There’s a heaviness to it now, like the air before a storm.
The old snow crunches beneath my paws as I move through the woods, Sage and Red on either side of me. The air is sharp this morning, heavy with the smell of frozen earth and damp bark. It’s almost dusk, the light turning that strange silver-blue that always makes the forest feel older, quieter.
Something in me won’t settle today. Every muscle in my body hums like it’s waiting for something to happen.
I can’t name it, but the forest feels off—too quiet or too still. Even in winter, I can usually hear something—branches settling, or the faint scurry of small animals. But today it’s dead quiet. The kind of quiet that feels like a held breath.
Maybe I’m just strung out. Things are getting to me.
Or maybe it’s that I haven’t really been with Tobias yet—not the way I need to be.
It’s late January, which means it’s been almost a full month since Tobias and I first kissed and fooled around in the darkroom. We’ve had a few other moments in my bed, each one as good as the first, but no real claiming. No penetration, no bite.
And it’s killing me.
Not just the physical part. The not being fully bound. Not being fully his.
There’s a pull in my chest that hasn’t let up since that first night, like my ribs are caught on a hook, searching for the other end of our connection.
When I’m with him—when he’s close—the world goes quiet in a good way.
Like every wrong thing in my life finds its place.
Like I was made to fit against him and nowhere else.
But that tug of our connection won’t lessen until we actually mate. And the longer we wait, the louder the need gets, especially with the dangers that hunt him.
I need to be with him. And soon.
A faint buzzing sound breaks the silence—too mechanical, too sharp to be a bird. I narrow my eyes toward the treetops, searching. The horizon glints with something metallic, which becomes larger the nearer it gets.
Out of nowhere, a black bird swoops past it, disappearing into the gray. The movement is too precise. Like it was watching the drone. Waiting for it.
Did you see that? Sage growls.
Yeah. I slow, scanning the sky. What’s Grant doing with the drone this late?
Sage shakes his fur out. Not that. I meant the bird.
What about it?
It’s been getting too close to the drone lately. Grant has been trying to chase it off, but it keeps returning.
I frown, watching the raven circle overhead, wings barely moving. Forest would be pissed if it broke the drone. That thing cost a small fortune.
Come on, Red urges, leading the way. Let’s get home.
I pick up the pace.
Sage bumps my side. We’re planning a trip into Prodigy soon.
What for?
Supplies. And to meet up with some… contacts. His tone dips at the same time his tail flicks.
Who?
Kaine wants to meet with us.
I stop. Any reason?
He thinks he may have found where one of them is hiding.
The cold seems to thicken around us. My hackles rise. And you’re just telling me this now? If they have information on the coven, I need to know.
Red growls, low and warning. We just found out this morning. We’re still sorting the details.
Why only one?
We don’t know. Sage turns toward the trees. Kaine just said they’ve found one, and they’re alone.
I doubt that. My muscles tense. The others are probably just hiding inside. Same as they did at the club. Foxx made Rip do all the dirty work.
Sage glances at me. Calm down, nephew. I know what you’re feeling and—
Yeah? How could you possibly know what I’m feeling? Your mate’s life isn’t on the line!
Not right now, Sage fires back, but it has been in the past. You know that.
I bare my teeth and turn away, leaping across the creek. Cold water bites at my paws, grounding me for a heartbeat before the anxiety pushes back.
They catch up fast.
Red speaks first. The bond is making you antsy.
This isn’t the bond! I snap. This is stress. I need to keep him safe.
They exchange a look—shared understanding, shared history. Sage would be rolling his eyes if he had a face right now.
You need to claim him, Red says, slower this time, exhausted from the day’s run. Your wolf is restless without that connection.
I recoil. I can’t yet.
Sage’s confusion hits me like static. Why not?
Because he doesn’t know.
Red stumbles to a stop. You haven’t told him you’re fated?
No.
Rowen! Why?
Because he doesn’t need another thing to think about.
Of all the things, Red snaps, this is the one that helps. He’ll want it.
You don’t know that. My voice is shaky now. We’ve known each other two months.
Red and I knew two days before I bit him, Sage counters.
That surprises me. I always knew they bonded fast, but that fast?
Red nudges him, soft and sure. Our wolves knew. And we trusted them.
That’s just it. I shake my head hard. Tobias doesn’t have a wolf. He doesn’t have the instinct. He won’t feel it like I do.
Doesn’t mean he’s not feeling it at all, Red murmurs.
Sage steps closer. You need to tell him.
I open my mouth to argue—but a prickle crawls up my spine. Every hair stands on end.
Someone’s watching us.
We scan the trees, but the forest is silent aside from the whirr of the drone.
Sage nudges me. You’re jumpy because of what you’re feeling. Talk to him.
I bolt forward, snow spraying behind me. Screw that. I don’t need advice. I need him.
By the time I reach the side door, I’m already shifting, the change burning through me like liquid magic. A few pack members look up as I pass, but I ignore them, heading straight for the stairs. I know exactly where he’ll be.
Sure enough, as I turn the sliding door, red light pours over me in a muted glow.
Tobias stands by the enlarger, rubbing his forehead, eyes squinting. He gives me a weak smile.
“You okay?” I ask, stepping beside him.
“Headache again.”
“Maybe if you weren’t in here all day, every day…” I tease, kissing his cheek. “That red light probably isn’t good for you.”
He leans against me, barely responding. The warmth of him feels fragile. When he rests his head against my shoulder, my concern grows.
“Toby, really—are you okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Look at me.”
He lifts his face, and even in the darkened space, I can tell he’s flushed. I touch his forehead, but he seems fine.
“When’s the last time you ate?”
“Uhh.”
I laugh. “Come on.”
We shut the machine off together. He grabs a photo from the drying rack and hands it to me. “Give this to Taren, would you? I’m gonna go lie down.”
It’s a picture of Neal, all soft focus and soft light. He’s been going through several of my dad’s old negatives, practicing with the enlargers. Everyone in the house is loving it, reliving old memories. Mom had cried when Tobias gave her a photo of her and Dad together.
Tobias turns into my room without a word.
“Be right there.”
Downstairs, I tell my mom we’re skipping dinner. “He’s got another headache.”
She frowns. “Maybe Red needs to give him a different tonic.”
“Maybe he needs to spend a little less time in the darkroom,” I say with a laugh.
She smiles a little. “That’s possible too. I’ll change out the air filter. It should help.”
“Thanks.”
Before heading back upstairs, I stop by the office. Grant and Forest are poring over maps, with the drone feed flickering on the monitor.
“Did you see anything out there?” I ask.
Grant shakes his head. “No.”
“Keep looking. I felt something today.”
They both narrow their eyes. “Where?”
“West and north ends. I never saw it, but I’m certain something was there.”
Grant nods. “I’m losing light, but I’ll keep trying.”
I turn to leave, but pause in the doorway. “Sage mentioned you’re going to Prodigy soon. I want in.”
Forest looks up sharply. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not thinking clearly,” he says. “Yesterday, you charged a full wolf thinking it was a shifter. You know better than that.”
I grit my teeth. My damn shoulder still aches from the nip that wolf gave me too. “I’m fine.” My voice comes out harder than I intend. “And I’m going.”
Forest leans forward. “It’s just a supply run.”
“Bullshit. You’re talking to Kaine,” I bite out. “He’s found one of them.”
Neither of them denies it.
“They’re threatening Tobias, Uncle. I need to go.”
There’s a long pause as the men weigh the options, but it doesn’t matter what they say. I’ll be in that car one way or another.
Finally, Grant nods. “Fine. We leave at three o’clock.”
“Thank you.”
As I step into the hall, Sage raises a brow at me, having clearly overheard the conversation. His look says everything: claim him, you idiot.
I shove past him and go upstairs.
Tobias is curled on the bed, half-asleep. I sit beside him, pressing the plate into his hands. “Please eat, hon,” I murmur. “I’m worried.”
He crawls into my lap sitting sideways, and manages a few bites.
I brush a hand through his hair before kissing his head. “Take a break from the darkroom, okay? See if it helps. You’ve been in there almost every day. Maybe the light, or the chemicals or something are giving you headaches.”
He sighs. “Maybe.”
I want to tell him everything. About the trip, the bond, the danger. But he’s already on the cusp of sleep. Not tonight.
I hold him instead.
My mate. My heartbeat. The one thing I’d burn the world for.
I settle back against the wall, Tobias tucked against me, his head resting over my heart. He’s quiet against me, breath slow, with the sandwich half-eaten and forgotten in his hand.
I take it gently and set it aside. His skin is warm, but not with fever—just… something. I slide a hand up his left arm, stopping just below his mark. The heat still reaches me.
I grit my teeth and press a kiss to his forehead, breathing him in. For the first time all day, my wolf is calm, soothed by his mate’s scent.
But the rest of me can’t shake the feeling something is missing. As much as I hate myself for it, I know Sage and Red are right. This isn’t enough. Not anymore. I want to protect Tobias, yes—but I also want to claim him, to show him what he means to me. To anchor us both.
Later, I tell myself. When he isn’t in pain or exhausted or overwhelmed. I want Tobias to remember it in a good way.
For now, this can be enough.
I kiss his forehead again. I’ll hold him through the night and try to convince myself it’s enough.
It has to be enough.