Chapter 28
ROWAN
Standing in front of the massive silver-colored dome, I feel nothing.
No fear. No panic. No rage.
Just a knowing that I don’t belong anywhere else right now.
The surface of the barrier before me hums faintly, a low vibration that pulses against my skin, but it doesn’t touch me. Not really. Not the way it should. Not the way something this powerful and wrong could.
I have no idea what we’re about to face or the choices I’m going to have to make, but I do know one thing.
I know who I am and who I want to be.
Whatever fate Malrik finds today, it will be from his own doing.
All I need is for me and my family to walk away together.
Until that happens, I’m content to sit in this stillness. This quiet, hollow space where everything unnecessary has been stripped away, leaving only what matters.
My mind is clear, sharper than it’s ever been, and it’s almost too easy to tune out the voices around me.
The whispers and speculation and terror.
They talk about what’s likely waiting beyond the shield, about what Malrik might have planned, about what I might do when I face him.
About how I might kill him.
About how he might kill me, and what they’ll have to do if that happens.
That one, I ignore because letting him win isn’t an option.
I refuse to let my thoughts wander into those possibilities. I don’t give them space to exist, because there’s only one outcome I’m willing to imagine.
It’s not what if I fail.
It’s only what if I win.
When I told my mom none of this was fair—that I didn’t want this power or this pressure—I meant every word of it. I still do.
But standing here now, staring at the barrier Malrik built to keep us out, I can’t deny what’s settled into me.
Acceptance.
Not of what was forced on me, but of what I’ve chosen to do with it.
Still, a quiet question lingers beneath it all.
Will my fight actually be over when I defeat him, or will it have only just begun?
With a deep breath, I relax my shoulders and keep my stare ahead. I can’t worry about what’s to come. Not today.
Cade stands on my left, present and steadfast, while Archie flanks my other side at full size, his presence as grounding as the earth beneath my feet.
Behind us, Liz and my parents hover close enough that I can feel them without turning, while Iris paces around, muttering commentary no one asked for.
I wanted them to stay behind. I didn’t want to put them at risk. But more than that…
I didn’t want them to see what’s about to happen.
In the end, when I watched my mom step toward the portal without hesitation, I saw something I’d been trying to ignore.
A mother’s love.
If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t let my daughter go alone either.
We’re all in this together. No matter what happens next.
“What do you think he’s waiting for?” Liz asks from behind me, her voice quieter than usual, edged with something she’s trying not to name.
I don’t answer her right away. Instead, I let my focus drift forward, reaching past the barrier and the steady hum of magic vibrating against it, pushing beyond whatever distortion he’s built to keep us out.
I picture him there, standing on the other side, watching me with the same intensity I’m directing toward him. He isn’t rushing this. He’s waiting—patient, controlled, and deliberate.
Waiting for me to crack.
For my control to slip.
For even the smallest flicker of doubt to surface and prove whatever point he’s built this entire moment around.
My lips curve just slightly as the realization settles in.
If I’m right, I could stand here forever.
“Whatever it is, let’s hope he finds it soon,” Archie says beside me, his voice dry as he shifts his weight, towering at my side.
Cade holds my hand. He hasn’t stopped touching me in some way since we stood from the table to leave. I don’t know if that’s for my benefit or his, maybe both. Either way, I don’t mind it.
The closer we are, the stronger I feel. Our bond feels like thunder cracking within me, alive and ready for the lightning that follows.
I just have to unleash it.
A rush of icy air sweeps around us, sharp and sudden, building with each passing second until it spirals into something almost violent.
It hisses as it moves, curling against my skin, tugging at my clothes and sending my hair whipping around my face.
The cold bites into every inch of exposed skin, raising a trail of pinpricks along my arms, but I don’t flinch.
I don’t look away.
I keep my gaze locked forward, steady and unyielding.
And then… I smile.
“Just waiting on you.”
The words leave me in a whisper, carried on the wind, but something deep in my bones tells me that Malrik hears them exactly as I intend.
Loud. Clear. Unshaken.
You’re rather frightening, my mate, Cade murmurs through our bond, his voice low and threaded with something that feels rather close to admiration.
A quiet breath slips from me, my focus never faltering. Let’s hope you’re right.
If there’s even a chance I can unsettle Malrik before he drops this shield—if I can plant even the smallest seed of doubt—I’ll take it. I’ll take every advantage I can get, no matter how small or possibly fleeting.
Still, what I appreciate most is that Cade’s here. Not in front of me, trying to shield me. Not behind me, waiting to catch me if I fall. He stands at my side, exactly where I need him to be.
With me.
His presence is certain and a quiet force that doesn’t press or pull but simply exists in perfect alignment with my own.
He’s powerful in his own right—stronger than most would ever dare to challenge—and yet there hasn’t been a single moment where he’s made me feel like this is something I can’t handle.
I know he’s afraid. I can feel it, hidden but constant, threaded through the bond between us. Yet, it doesn’t control him.
It doesn’t override what matters more. His belief in me.
And that… That is everything.
I don’t need him to fight this battle for me. I just need him here.
And as the dome before us begins to shimmer, the silver surface rippling like water before slowly dissolving into nothing, I know I already have exactly what I need.
The moment the shield falls, the world beyond it sharpens into focus.
And it’s nothing like I expected.
The space stretches wide and open, carved into a barren expanse of earth that looks too smooth to be natural, as if the land itself had been stripped down and reshaped to suit a single purpose.
The ground is packed tight beneath our feet, dark and unyielding, with faint fractures spidering across the surface like something beneath it is waiting to break through.
But it’s not the land that holds my attention. It’s what he’s built around it.
Rows of elevated platforms rise along the outer edges of the clearing—crude bleachers formed from stone and reinforced metal, layered high enough to give everyone a clear view of what’s about to unfold.
They curve in a wide arc, hemming in the space and turning it into something far more deliberate than a battlefield.
An arena.
My stomach tightens as I take in the figures already occupying those seats.
Supernaturals from every corner of our world—wolves, vampires, and witches—some standing, some seated, all watching. Most of them are too still. Their expressions blank in a way that feels wrong, their bodies rigid like they’ve been placed there instead of choosing to be.
On the opposite side, our people begin to gather, still spilling out from the portals behind us. They hesitate to fill the empty seats, but they know what I want, and that isn’t an all-out war.
With encouragement from Cade, our people begin filling the open rows, and the other packs follow. The contrast is immediate. Where Malrik’s audience is silent and still, ours moves and breathes, alive with tension and choice.
My gaze drags back to the center, where the open ground widens into a clear, untouched space—no obstacles and nothing to hide behind. Just bare earth and the weight of expectation pressing down from all sides.
And within that space…
There are the leaders.
The supernatural ones that he took.
My breath catches for half a second as I take in the sight of them—lined along the far edge of the arena, restrained by thick chains that glint in the fading light.
Some are on their knees, others forced to stand, the restraints binding wrists, ankles, and even throats in some cases.
Magic hums faintly around them, a secondary layer of control that ensures they stay exactly where Malrik wants them.
Alive, but not free.
A warning and a promise.
My jaw tightens, but I don’t let it show.
Beyond them, The Keep rises into the night.
It looms in the distance like something carved from shadow and stone, its dark structure cutting into the horizon with sharp, unforgiving edges. It’s far enough away that it doesn’t crowd the arena, but close enough that its presence is impossible to ignore.
A reminder of where this started.
Of what he built. Of what he thinks he owns.
And then, there’s him.
Malrik stands at the center of it all, exactly where he wants to be. Hands clasped behind his back, his posture relaxed and still.
From a distance, he looks composed. Like this is nothing more than another calculated moment in a plan he’s already seen through to the end.
But I don’t focus on his posture or his stance. I look at his eyes, and that’s where it is.
The flicker, gone almost as quickly as it appears, but I see it. The recognition and anticipation, and something else threaded beneath it that doesn’t belong in a man who claims to be so controlled.
Nervousness.
The corner of my mouth lifts just slightly, not enough for anyone else to notice, but he does.
Because for the first time since this all began…
I know something he doesn’t.
Malrik never had a chance at breaking me.
And today? He’s going to have to face what I became because of his choices.
I walk forward, Cade and my family with me.
It’s time to end this nightmare.
I’m half a step ahead of them, and it’s a second too late before I realize what’s happened.