Chapter 27 Rowen
ROWEN
The house has been humming with the constant, low thrum of conversation for two days now—the kind that carries tension in every word. I sit in my usual spot at the table, trying to ignore the ball of dread in my stomach. It’s been gnawing at me ever since we returned from Prodigy.
Red flips through a notebook filled with Taren’s latest findings—or rather, lack thereof, his brows drawn together in a frown.
“Any luck?” I ask.
Red snaps his head up, almost surprised to see me there.
Everyone is so on edge, so focused lately.
“No. She’s still coming up empty.” He closes the notebook and sits back, scrubbing his face.
“It doesn’t make sense. This pattern isn’t like one she’s seen before.
She can pick out parts of it, like the protection and ownership. But… I don’t know. Something’s off.”
Jasmine sits down next to him. “Tell him what Neal said.”
“Ah, yes.” Red sits up. “Neal thinks since we know the second mark will be different, there is also a chance it may be different for each person.”
“So even if we figure out Tobias’s, we might not know the other victim’s?”
He exhales, nodding. “Exactly. But it’s all just a theory at this point.”
“Foxx does like collecting unique things.” I barely contain my growl. “He’ll probably make each one different just for kicks.”
Jericho enters the room holding his phone. “Just talked with Kaine. He’s tracing a new trail that might lead us to the compound where they’re hiding.”
“Really?” Red seems deeply skeptical.
Jericho shrugs. “Kaine says it’s a long shot, but it’s something. He’ll call me when he knows more.”
Something.
It’s always something. Never enough.
The air in the room feels stale, heavy with worry and the scent of coffee gone cold. Red has been losing sleep over this—same as everyone else.
I can barely breathe most days. All I can think about is Tobias.
Ever since I got back from Prodigy, he’s been…
off. I can’t explain it really, but he’s quieter.
Distant. I don’t think it’s the fated mate news, because he still smiles when I catch his eye.
But every time I reach for him, it’s like there’s a piece of him now that is somewhere beyond me.
I can feel it. Like something inside him is turning away.
And I don’t know how to fix it.
“Taren and Neal are on their way to Prodigy to raid a private archive. She thinks they’ll find something there. Until then, we just keep doing what we’re doing, yeah?”
The room goes still again, and I feel everyone’s attention flick toward me. I grit my teeth. This is on my shoulders more than anyone else’s. I should be the one helping Tobias. Protecting him. Finding answers.
I’m letting him down.
“Yeah,” I say, voice low.
Sage shifts the conversation to territory checks, who’s going where tonight, but I barely hear it. Every instinct in me screams that I’m missing something, that Tobias’s silence isn’t just fatigue or fear or guilt.
I step outside and toss my clothes onto the chair before shifting. The forest is my reset button. Always has been.
Cold air fills my lungs as I break into a run, paws beating the ground until the sound of my heartbeat drowns everything else out. The frozen earth is cold against my toes, but I keep going. I run until the burn in my legs matches the tightness in my chest.
Above me, a raven flies in a low circle, and I try to focus on that, on the sounds of the forest, but thoughts of Tobias won’t let me go.
The way he’s been shying away from some things and leaning in hard with others—mostly sex.
His sex drive is a workout of its own. But with the new barriers, it’s hard to know if it’s really him craving me or if he’s just using it as a distraction from something else.
His nightmares have returned too. Tobias has woken up every night since I went to Prodigy, muttering things about his mother. Each time, it takes longer and longer to pull him out of them.
I pick up speed, lungs burning now. The wind cuts through the trees, cold and sharp, like it wants to flay me open.
You’re not losing him, I tell myself. That won’t happen.
By the time I circle back to the house, a couple of hours have slipped by. My pulse still thrums in my ears as I shift and yank my clothes on. Steam floats up from my heated skin.
Warmth greets me as I push through the door, as well as the mouth-watering scent of fresh bread.
Grant folds his arms over his chest, blocking me from the stairs. “You know the rule. No solo runs.”
“I stayed at the edge of the trees. It was fine.”
He growls. “Take someone next time.”
I wipe sweat from my neck and head upstairs, thinking maybe I’ll shower before I check on Tobias. With any luck, he’s editing photos or back in the darkroom again. He hasn’t been back in there since before I went to Prodigy.
The hall light flickers faintly when I reach the second floor, and I slow when I get to our room.
The door’s mostly closed. Just enough of a gap for me to hear the low murmur of Tobias’s voice.
At first I think he’s on the phone, but Tobias hasn’t asked to call anyone since he’s been here. There’s no answering sound, no rhythm of conversation. Just his voice, soft and frayed at the edges.
“I don’t… I don’t know,” he says. A pause. Then, quieter, “I’m… stop.”
My breath seizes.
He sounds… scared.
I take a half step closer, heart pounding. I can hear him pacing, see his shadow moving on the far wall through the narrow crack of the door.
“Please, just stop. I can’t—stop!”
The words catch, breaking on a breath that’s almost a sob.
I feel the floor tilt beneath me. For a second, I’m not standing in this hallway. I’m back in that story he told me—the one where he first found his mother standing alone in her room, talking to ghosts no one else could see.
It was the first time he’d known something was seriously wrong with her.
Tobias was seven.
“Please, just stop,” Tobias says again. I can almost hear her voice through his, pleading with something unseen.
No.
I grip the doorframe to ground myself. My pulse beats so loud I can barely think.
He’s not her. He’s not.
But the fear claws anyway.
I push the door open gently, enough to see him. He’s by the window, shoulders tense, one hand tangled in his hair. He isn’t wearing a shirt, and his skin looks chilled. But more than that, Tobias looks… lost. Like he’s listening to something I can’t hear.
“Please,” he mutters, lip trembling. “Please, just stop.”
“Toby?” My voice comes out rough.
He startles and spins toward me. The change is instant, almost too smooth. He smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Hey,” he says, blinking like he’s waking from a dream. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
I swallow hard. “You okay?”
He slants his head. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Who were you talking to?”
He blinks again, then laughs awkwardly. “Oh. That? Uh, just myself. You know, talking through some things.”
He waves it off, like it’s nothing. Like my stomach isn’t turning to ice.
Who was he pleading with… and why? Was it his ghosts? His mother’s ghost? What were they saying to him to make his face so pale?
“Sounded like more than that,” I say quietly.
Tobias sinks into the beanbag, reaching for the older laptop. “I’m just tired, Ro,” he answers too fast. “Really, it’s nothing.”
I take a slow step closer. “Tobias, come on. You sure that’s all?”
He meets my gaze finally, and for a heartbeat, I see something flicker there. Fear? Guilt? Maybe both. It’s gone just as fast, buried under a careful mask. He sucks in a breath and smiles again.
“Yeah,” he says, softer now. “I’m fine. Promise.”
He’s not lying to me. He’s lying to himself.
And that breaks me.
Everything in me is screaming that something is going on. I want to step closer, to touch him, to make whatever it is go away. But how can I? He’s treating it like it’s vapor. Here one second, gone the next. Like it’s nothing.
My heart breaks.
What if it’s really happening?
What if I’m watching my fated mate start to lose himself to the half-blood?
The silence stretches, heavy as stone. Tobias clicks away on the computer, finger tracing over the trackpad like it hadn’t just been trembling a few moments ago.
When he realizes I’m still staring, he jerks his chin up, jaw set. “Rowen, I said I’m fine, okay?”
He isn’t. Every instinct is telling me he isn’t.
I open my mouth—ready to press, to demand the truth—but a knock at the door cuts through the tension.
“Toby!” My mother’s voice floats in from somewhere behind me. “You wanted some of the fresh sourdough. It’s ready.”
“Ooh! Yes.” Tobias hops up in an instant, setting the laptop aside. His smile is genuine this time. “Time for carbs,” he jokes lightly.
I don’t smile back.
He walks past me toward the door, brushing my arm as he goes. The touch is light, too light, like he’s testing whether I’ll stop him. I don’t. I can’t.
Not yet.
I turn out of habit to follow him, my chest tight. From behind, he looks steady, sure, every inch the man I’m falling in love with—but I can still hear the echo of his voice from minutes ago.
Please, just stop.
I know what I heard.
And no amount of pretending will make it disappear.
My mate is suffering, and he doesn’t want me to know about it.
Downstairs, laughter fills the kitchen, the easy kind that fills a room.
Tobias slips into it effortlessly, smiling at something Sage says.
Two loaves of warm sourdough bread are on a cutting board beside a dish of fresh butter.
Tobias is practically bouncing on his toes as he cuts himself a slice, beaming from ear to ear.
I stay in the doorway a moment longer. My hands are still shaking as I watch him, the warmth of the room brushing against the cold still lodged in my chest.
If this is what his mother went through… what he went through… then no wonder he’s been so haunted all his life. It’s like I witnessed a ghost come back to life.
How can I stop this? Is there any hope?
I stop Red on his way by.
His brows furrow as he looks at me.
“Are you still looking into half-bloods?”
He nods slowly, concern deepening. “Why do you ask?”
I fold my arms over my chest and watch my mate. Fear rattles me. “How do I keep him safe, Red?”
“Did something happen?”
I open my mouth to tell him, but nothing comes out. How can I explain what I saw?
Red touches my arm. “Give me time.”
That’s just it though. It feels like I’m out of time… and I only just found him.
I refuse to lose him. Time or not, I am not losing my mate.
Not to his past.
Not to the mark.
Not to anything.
I’ll find a way to keep him safe.
I have to.