Chapter 20
ROWAN
By the time Cade’s fist slices toward me again, my arms feel like overcooked noodles.
I throw them up anyway, catching his knuckles with my forearm a beat too late.
The hit jars through bone and muscle, shoving me back until my sneakers skid trenches in the dirt.
Another bruise blooms to join the technicolor map already painted across my skin.
I’m sweating, panting, and aching in places I didn’t even know existed, like the weird strip of muscle above my ribs that only hurts when I breathe. Which, unfortunately, I need to do to stay alive. And still Cade doesn’t ease up. Not even an ounce.
But honestly? The bruises aren’t the worst part.
It’s him. The sheer proximity of him. His hands on me, even when they’re shoving or blocking, make my wolf hum like she’s being serenaded.
Every brush of contact feels wrong, and right all at once, like the kind of torture you don’t want to end.
And if that wasn’t distracting enough, the word bounty keeps blaring in my head like an alarm I can’t shut off.
The council didn’t just declare hybrids fair game. They slapped a price tag on me. As if I’m some exotic deer they can mount on their wall. The thought alone makes me want to hurl or punch harder, or both if I’m capable.
Judging by the storm brewing across Cade’s face, he hasn’t let it go either.
His strikes are sharper, his corrections more cutting, like he’s trying to beat the news out of his own skull.
I liked him better last night—steady, encouraging, almost gentle.
This Cade is all rough edges and grindstone, determined to whittle me down until I’m nothing but dust.
“Focus,” he snaps, circling me like a predator. His golden eyes burn hotter than the sun overhead, and I’m fairly certain my skin might combust under the weight of his glare.
“Oh, I’m focused,” I mutter, wiping sweat from my brow with a trembling hand. “Focused on how much I’d rather be eating bacon than playing live-action dodgeball with your fists right now.”
His lunge is faster than thought. His palm slams into my shoulder instead of my wrist, harder than anything before it. Pain detonates down my arm, my knees folding beneath me. It’s not intentional—I catch the flicker of regret in his eyes—but my temper doesn’t care about his accidental oops.
Anger surges hot and immediate, shredding through exhaustion like fire catching dry tinder.
“Son of a—” My shove isn’t calculated. It’s not trained. It’s raw, furious instinct.
And he actually stumbles back. Cade Westin, immovable, grumpy alpha extraordinaire, was forced to take a step by me. My chest heaves, my pulse thundering in my ears as I stare down at my hands like they’re foreign weapons.
“Well,” I growl, adrenaline burning away the ache in my muscles, “guess I’ve finally found something I’m good at—being pissed off at you.”
That’s not something you should be proud of, Wolf grumbles, but I ignore her.
Cade steadies himself, surprise flashing in his eyes before he masks it. His wolf, though, is less subtle. I can feel the rumble of approval vibrating in the air between us.
Cade’s jaw clenches, like he’s fighting with his own beast. “That strength,” he says carefully, circling me again. “It’s not normal—not for a first shift, not for someone this untrained.”
I roll my shoulders, energy still crackling through me, bruises forgotten. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t seem like there’s anything normal about me, does there? Maybe I just have natural skill.”
It’s pure bullshit, but goading him feels like the only logical move at this point. If I’m going to get pummeled, I might as well be mouthy about it.
The corner of his mouth twitches like he wants to smile, but he doesn’t. Instead, he prowls closer, golden gaze locking with mine. “No, Rowan. That wasn’t skill. That shove came from your power bleeding through. You need to learn to control it before it controls you.”
Heat flares in my chest at the way he says my name like he knows me, like he owns a part of me I never agreed to hand over.
My fists clench, mostly because he’s probably right. “Fine. But I’m not going to figure this out in a single day, and beating the shit out of me isn’t exactly speeding things along. Maybe you should try a little of that patience you showed me last night.”
His wolf rumbles, almost like an approval, golden eyes glinting with pride and hunger all at once. Cade tilts his head, studying me like I’m a puzzle he’s only just beginning to piece together.
“We don’t have that luxury anymore unless you want to go on the run,” he says, voice rough. “I told you that you’d hate me by the time I was done with you. It’s not what I want, but it’s what you need. So, unless you’re giving up, we keep going.”
For a beat, the world shrinks to the charged air between us, every inch of space vibrating with the challenge in his words.
My breath hitches as he steps close enough that I feel the heat radiating off his chest. The bond tugs inside me, firm and demanding, until I swear the earth might split if I don’t reach for this man.
Lean on him, Wolf urges. He’s meant to strengthen you. The longer you fight this, the longer it will take to become who you’re supposed to be. Unless you’d rather end up the council’s prisoner.
Right. The bounty isn’t a death sentence now that I’ve shifted—it’s worse. It’s a leash.
Maybe that’s why I listen to her this time. Or maybe it’s just exhaustion. Either way, I stop thinking and press my palm flat to Cade’s chest. His shirt is soft cotton, but the warmth beneath it feels like fire being shot straight into my veins.
Two things happen all at once: a blast of energy fills my core, rising up toward my chest and out through my arms before it shocks Cade.
He, in turn, grabs my wrist, flips me with brutal efficiency, and pins me to the ground before I even register I’m moving through the air.
“What the fuck was that, Rowan?” His tight gaze glows, and he blinks several times. With each flutter of his eyes, a softness returns to his face, and he loosens his hold. “You weren’t trying to hurt me.”
“No.”
It’s all I can get out with him straddled over me, his mouth only inches from mine. The explanation claws at my throat, but the words won’t come. Not with the weight of him above me, not with the bond roaring like wildfire between us.
Before I can figure out what to do next, Cade’s attention snaps toward the trees. His chest rumbles with a sound that vibrates straight through me.
“Run, Rowan.” The command cuts through me, sending chills racing down my spine.
“What?”
He doesn’t even look at me as his hand clamps around my arm, hauling me to my feet. “Get back to the manor. Now.”
Someone’s coming, Wolf warns. No, two of them. Let me out. We can help him.
I want to believe her, but my brain is busy trying to process the fact that my best defense is apparently a fur suit with teeth. Still, something about Cade’s voice lingers in my veins, hot and frantic.
Before I can listen to either of them, he snarls, his fury aimed at me. “I swear to the gods above, Rowan, get out of here!”
Right. Obey the scary alpha, not the voice in my head.
But any thoughts of escape die the second two wolves slip from the tree line, shadows with fur blacker than night.
Their eyes gleam as they stalk forward. I turn toward the manor, legs pumping, but even I know I’m not fast enough.
Unless Cade can take both of them down at once, I’m basically a chew toy waiting for my turn to be tossed around.
Shift, Wolf urges, her voice a snarl of impatience. I can run faster than you.
She’s not wrong, and I’m out of options. Even knowing the pain waiting for me, I don’t hesitate—I call her forward.
Agony splinters through me. Bones snap and rearrange, tendons tear and weave back together, skin stretches and shreds like paper. For a heartbeat, I think I really am dying—confetti made of flesh scattered in the wind. I count the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four.
And then it’s done.
My chest heaves, every nerve sizzling, but the ache is nothing compared to what those wolves will do if we don’t move. Wolf wastes no time. She bolts forward. Only not toward the manor.
What are you doing? I shout inside my own skull.
What we’re meant to, she replies with infuriating certainty. Being by our mate.
He’s going to be so freaking furious. I try to fight her, to call the shift back, but she doesn’t allow me to take control. Before I know it, she’s leaping toward one of the intruders, teeth bared and claws extended.
Shifter shits. This isn’t going to be good.
We strike first, jaws clamping onto the wolf’s leg. Blood fills our mouth, hot and metallic, but pain slams into us just as quick. A sharp bite to our flank that takes out one leg in seconds. We howl, the sound splitting the night, guttural and haunting.
Wolf doesn’t stop. She lunges again, reckless, her jaw closing around fur and flesh. For one dizzying second, I think maybe we can get the upper hand until teeth sink into our exposed neck. Searing pain moves through us, and the world narrows to the taste of crimson and the press of fangs.
A blur tears past us then, faster than lightning, and I scent her long before I see her. Liz.
But I can’t see where she goes once I see Cade’s wolf barreling toward the wolf nearest to me. He charges forward with a fury I can feel more than see, golden eyes burning as he rips the attacker away from us. Blood sprays across the earth, and I can’t tell if it’s theirs or ours.
You shouldn’t have done that, I tell Wolf as we lie there, pinned to the ground by nothing but exhaustion and blood loss. My chest rises and falls shallowly, every breath a labor. We were supposed to run.
We had to try, she argues, though the conviction in her tone is weaker now.
Yeah, well, tell that to Cade, I snap. Because he’s already back on two legs, looming over us like a storm that’s about to swallow the whole damn world. And if we live through this, I’m the one who’s going to feel the full weight of his wrath.
I try to push Wolf to move, to see more than a patch of dirt, but she’s too weak. My body stays heavy, useless. The shadow that settles over us makes me flinch, bracing for another strike. Except this one isn’t teeth or claws. It’s going to be words. And those might cut deeper.
Cade stands there silently, his body vibrating with fury. I finally manage to turn enough to see him. His eyes—usually molten gold—are so dark they look like melted chocolate. His jaw locked so tight, I half-expect it to shatter.
If I could talk, I’d apologize. I’d crack a joke. I’d do something. But stuck like this, all I can manage is a pathetic whimper, and I doubt that’s going to smooth things over.
Then, instead of unleashing hell, he lowers himself to the ground. Both of his hands press against my wolf’s flank, and tingles seep through fur and skin, heat pooling at the wound until it burns and soothes at once.
Liz’s voice cuts through the night. “They’re both dead. What the hell happened?”
He doesn’t answer her. I’m not sure he even can through his rage. It’s white-hot and directed right at me as he commands my wolf with just one word.
“Shift.”
“Can she even do that in her condition?” Liz asks, but still receives no reply.
Another minute of staring down with Cade, me attempting to plead for his forgiveness through my wolf’s eyes, and him seeming as though he’d rather I were dead right now.
He doesn’t want us dead, Wolf says. He’s just worried.
Sure, that’s all this is.
The silence carries on until he finally stands and grunts. “I said shift.”
I still don’t think I can, but this time, there’s a power in the word that my wolf doesn’t want to ignore. No, she can’t ignore. I thought he couldn’t control us like that, but apparently, a weakened Ashmark can still be commanded.
Wolf drags herself inward, pushing my presence back to the surface, and agony detonates through every nerve.
What the hell are you doing? I cry out as our bones grind and skin tears, folding back into human shape.
Making sure we don’t further piss him off.
Now you’re worried about that?
If it wouldn’t likely kill me, too, I’d be seriously considering turning this wolf into a welcome mat.
By the time it’s over, sweat drenches me. My skin feels flayed, my chest heaves, and I can’t quite pull in a full breath. The world tilts, and it takes everything in me to keep my eyes open as I lie bare and trembling under Cade’s unforgiving stare.
He leans down once more, his shirt in his hands. Gently—far more than I expect—he drapes it over me, the fabric warm from his body, smelling of pine and fire and him. Then, without hesitation, he gathers me into his arms, cradling me as if I weigh nothing.
“I’m so—”
He cuts me off with a single, sharp word. “No.”
“But she—”
His gaze drops to mine, still almost black. “I said no, Rowan.” The way he says my name feels almost like a warning, a plea, and a promise all at once.
This time, I keep my mouth shut. Clearly, he needs more time to calm down, and the least I can do is give it to him.
Liz falls in step beside us, her expression softening as her eyes meet mine. She blows me a quick kiss, a silent comfort in contrast to Cade’s ire. If only he were as forgiving.
When we arrive back at NightShade, Archie is already there in full Great Dane glory, blocking the doorway with his hulking frame. “What happened? Why didn’t anyone get me?”
Cade doesn’t answer, his silence louder than a snarl, but Liz speaks for him. “There was an attack. Two wolves, both shadowed in dark energy. I got one, and Cade got the other, but not before Rowan was hurt.”
Archie’s jowls curl into a snarl. “You weren’t ready for that.”
No kidding, but I don’t get to offer my best friend any reassurances before Cade barrels past him without so much as a glance, carrying me up the stairs like a storm wrapped in skin.
By the time we reach my bedroom, Liz and Archie are close behind, yet that doesn’t matter. Cade slams the door in their faces, and the echo rattles through the manor, final and furious.
Inside, the atmosphere changes. The tether between us burns, thrumming like a live wire. His body shakes with barely restrained violence as he holds me almost too tightly. When I tilt my chin, his eyes are there, wild and shadowed, pinning me in place.
And in that silence, one thing becomes blisteringly clear.
I’ve hurt him.
Possibly even worse than myself.