Chapter 4 Rowan #2
Still, a few details made this place feel more lived-in than the last. The entertainment center had video games and movies, probably Ryker's, since he had a habit of sprawling out while watching a horror or comedy film. A high-end set of pots, pans, and knives hung from the kitchen wall, no doubt belonging to Talon or Cade, both of whom enjoyed cooking, although I had yet to taste any of Talon’s food.
Maps and mission reports covered the walls.
They were not particularly decorative, but they were better than nothing.
A bookshelf near the TV held tactical manuals, textbooks, and a few novels.
On one shelf sat a small paper crane, folded from a torn page.
My heart tightened as I remembered how Killian had carefully crafted one for me when we first met.
He had not used my nickname since my escape attempt.
In fact, he had barely spoken to anyone at all, except for the rare moment when he signed something to Cade or gave a passive grunt.
The silence around him felt heavy, carved from anger or sorrow. Maybe both.
Laughter spilled into the room, interrupting the quiet tension.
Ryker walked in carrying a stack of takeout containers piled high.
Whatever had made him laugh was clearly not amusing to Talon, who followed behind with an eye roll and an annoyed expression.
He clipped Ryker on the back of the head, calling him a “dumbass,” which nearly made Ryker drop our dinner.
Cade rubbed his temples in typical fashion.
I ate in silence while the rest of the unit discussed their shift schedules and upcoming duties. I pushed my food around in the container. The pills dulled my appetite, but I knew Cade would make me finish my meal, so I steeled myself and forced everything down with gulps of water.
When my plate was finally empty, I asked to be excused so I could unpack my things and settle into my room. The simple act of organizing my belongings felt normal, domestic. I needed that right now.
“Yes,” Cade said. “You can go unpack. I already unloaded your suitcase from the convoy. I put it down the hall, inside the only door on the left.”
Relief flickered through me. Tension, guilt, and unspoken words swirled in the air, thick and oppressive, and I needed space before it crushed me.
I headed down the hallway, already thinking about where I’d put my clothes, how I’d organize what little I had.
I stopped in front of the door he’d indicated, pushed it open—
And froze.
It wasn’t a bedroom.
Shelves lined the walls, stacked with towels and folded linens. My suitcase sat neatly on the floor at the bottom of a narrow hall closet.
I frowned, backing out and double-checking the doors on the right side of the hallway instead. Each room carried a distinct scent. Ryker’s. Talon’s. Cade’s. I passed Killian’s room, catching faint movement inside.
My senses were sharper than they used to be. Talon had told me this would happen. As I learned to control my wolf and shifted more often, my hearing, sight, and sense of smell would sharpen, until my senses were as keen as his.
The final door at the end of the hall was locked.
“Uh, Cade…” I called.
“Yes?” he answered from the dining room.
I heard Ryker chuckle, followed by something I couldn’t quite make out.
“I found my suitcase,” I said carefully, “but it’s in a closet. Where’s my bedr—”
Ryker’s laughter cut me off.
I leaned around the corner of the hallway and narrowed my eyes at him. “What exactly is so funny, Ryker?” I asked, glancing between him and Cade.
Ryker shrugged, arms crossing as he leaned back in his chair, a smug expression settling in.
“You can unpack your things in the hall closet, Rowan,” Cade said evenly, not bothering to look up from his second helping.
I stared at him. “What—my bedroom doesn’t have a closet?”
He dropped his fork, exhaled, and raised his eyes to meet mine. The stern way he looked at me made me squirm. I could tell I was not about to like what he was going to say next.
“It’s not that your bedroom doesn’t have a closet,” he said evenly.
“It’s that you don’t have a bedroom. Bedrooms are privileges.
Personal space is a privilege. We shouldn’t have given you this privilege in the first place, and you’ve now lost it.
You will sleep in our rooms for the foreseeable future.
We will rotate every three days. Myself, then Ryker, then Talon—that is until Killian decides he can stomach being in the same room as you.
We will reevaluate your living arrangements in a few months, depending on your behavior. ”
I saw red.
The sedative had mostly worn off, and I could once again feel the full spectrum of my emotions.
Fury coursed through me. No personal space?
So they planned to make me a prisoner. To take away every ounce of my freedom and spoon it back to me in small helpings as a reward for compliance.
Was my guilt not enough? Could they not see that I recognized my choices had put me in danger and had no plans to do it again?
Where would I even go? We were in the middle of nowhere!
"Cade I—"
“There's no debate, Rowan. My decision is final.”
Suddenly, I could sense the wolf. I could feel her, me, whatever the creature truly was, clawing from underneath. Fury weakened the cage. Colors in the room grew more saturated, scents sharpened, and my nails elongated into knife-like claws.
Dig your nails into your palms.
A voice filtered through my mind, curling inside me.
I looked around to make sure no one had spoken.
Cade was still lecturing me about how I had snuck off in the night.
Ryker was pushing peas around on his plate, still smirking.
But Talon was staring at me with intensity, his yellow eyes flicking between my angry expression and sharpened claws.
Dig your nails into your palms. Use the pain to ground you. Control your emotions. You are not a beast.
The voice echoed again in my mind. This time I could hear the words more clearly. They were silky and smooth, resembling Talon’s voice. He was communicating through our shifter bond.
I vaguely remembered the sensation of calling out to him while shifting, unaware of what was happening to me.
He promised he was coming for me, his voice steady and sure even through the chaos in my head.
The memory settled through me like warmth, soft and comforting, easing the panic clawing at my chest.
I focused on his words.
Dig your nails into your palms now, or you are going to shift, Rowan.
His voice slid through my mind, louder and surer this time.
I listened, driving the tips of my claws into my own palms and squeezing my fists shut.
As the pain from each stabbing wound ripped through me, the fury lessened.
It was like dousing a fire with cold water. My wolf quieted, and the world dulled.
I looked at Talon, who was staring back at me with intensity. A smile crossed his lips, and I realized the emotion he was looking at me with was pride.
You did well, pet.
He nodded, and I couldn't help the small smirk that came to my lips as I sent him a message back through our bond, testing the connection.
I'm still not your pet.
“Rowan, do you think this is funny? Why exactly are you smiling?” Cade began angrily, but then abruptly stood, rushing toward me with a haste that made me falter.
“You're bleeding. What happened? Show me your hands.”
I held out my hands in confusion, only just noticing blood running down my fingertips and the small crescent-shaped cuts curving across my palms.
He flipped my hands over, checking my arms and shoulders frantically for any other injuries. Warmth spread through my chest at the sight of his urgency and concern. He had been so distant since my escape attempt, his words clipped and his eyes unreadable.
I had believed that whatever he once felt for me had disappeared. But now, seeing the tremor in his hands and the way his breath caught as he looked me over, I knew that wasn’t true. Beneath all the anger and restraint, he still cared.
Maybe more than he wanted to.
Placing my palms in his, I stilled his movement. “I’m okay, Cade. I was—”
He looked at me, confusion flashing across his face before realization dawned. He drew a sharp breath of relief, then forced his expression back into stone as he pulled his hands from mine.
“Shifting. You were shifting. I see.”
“I was able to stop myself. Talon told me how. He was talking to me, through our—” I pointed to my temple, feeling silly saying through our minds out loud, so I corrected myself. “Through the bond.”
He looked between us before saying, "Good," in a clipped, definitive tone.
While it wasn't his usual “good girl,” I was halfway there. A part of me missed that phrase, his praise, the warmth and heat those words sent through me. Even though I was angry, no, furious that they had stripped away every ounce of my freedom, I understood why.
I had run, I had broken their trust, and my choices had forced Cade's hand. I put myself and ultimately all of them in danger. The guilt of it sat heavy in my chest, twisting together with the resentment I felt toward them for turning me into a prisoner.
I hated the control, the rules, the constant surveillance, but I also hated that I knew I had earned it. Despite that, somewhere beneath all that anger, I wanted his approval. I wanted to hear him say those two words again.