Chapter 27
CIARAN
Ithink I’ve seriously become obsessed with Rowan.
Against all the warnings from Mom and the endless shit Lucan gives me about it, I just can’t stop touching my little mouse.
Not when he teaches me how to play the Noctis, which we’ve been doing every night for the past week, and not when I take him out riding through the upper lanes after curfew. He loves being on the back of my hoverbike even though he’d rather die than admit it.
Rowan’s complicated like that. He glares at me while climbing into my leathers, then spends the entire ride pressed against my back.
He acts annoyed when I drag him to another place I like on Sero, then stands there staring at everything with that quiet look he gets when he forgets people are watching him.
And every time we sit down in front of the Noctis, something changes in his face.
His green eyes start shimmering and he gets lost inside the music, lashes lowering as his shoulders finally loosen for a little while.
By the time I get back to the house after classes, my head is still full of him. The way he glared at me this morning when I stole half his breakfast. The way he keeps pretending he hates when I crowd into his space even though he melts every time I touch him.
The messages help too. After the initial adjustment period where Rowan seemed genuinely offended by my existence, he started warming up to the constant teasing. Worse, he’s getting good at it. Which means every now and then, he manages to catch me off guard.
And Light help me, I like that far more than I should.
mouse: Stop sending me conspiracy theories during Halvern’s lectures.
me: truth waits for no man
mouse: You are genuinely unbearable
me: and yet you keep ending up in my bed. funny how your messages get a lot friendlier afterward
I grin to myself as I shove open the door to our wing. The place smells like burned spices and something aggressively sweet.
Damaris is already in the kitchen swearing at somebody under his breath while stirring something in a pan hard enough to count as violence.
I still don’t know how it happened, but Rowan’s best friend has apparently annexed our kitchen.
“If one more person touches my sauce, I’m poisoning all of you,” he snaps without looking up.
“Good afternoon to you too.” I toe off my boots near the entrance and dump my bag beside the couch, then loosen the collar of my uniform and drag a hand through my hair as I cross the room.
Rafe is sprawled across the couch with a datapad balanced on his chest while Marius sits on the floor nearby, cleaning blood from his knuckles like that’s a completely normal hobby to have between classes.
“Where’s Rowan?” I ask.
Rafe slowly lowers the datapad. “That’s hello now?”
“You look suspiciously happy,” Lucan says from the kitchen doorway before wandering over to the counter and stealing something straight from one of the trays.
I toss my jacket over the arm of the couch. “Mom’s event starts in less than two hours, by the way.”
Damaris turns so fast he nearly slaps Lucan with the spoon. “Seriously, leave it alone. I’ve been working on this all afternoon.”
Lucan just grins around the bite before sliding an arm around Damaris’s waist and pulling him back against his chest. “Relax.” He steals another taste. “I’m quality control.”
Damaris mutters something under his breath but doesn’t pull away.
“Still trapped in rehearsal,” Lucan says, finally answering my question. “Halvern apparently decided Rowan’s not leaving until he can play the entire thing in his sleep.”
“That’s because Mom specifically asked for him,” Rafe mutters from the couch.
Lucan steals another bite from the tray before leaning against the counter. “Which honestly sounds like a terrible idea. Uncle Christian asked you to keep an eye on him. He didn’t say anything about dragging him into the family.”
I head toward my room, rubbing at the back of my neck.
My multi-slate vibrates before I reach the door.
mouse: I still have a full hour of rehearsal left because of you
me: pretty sure that’s a you problem, not a me problem
mouse: Unfortunately, I’m blaming you for my lack of concentration.
A grin pulls at my mouth before I can stop it.
“Light.” Lucan watches me over the edge of the tray he’s stealing from. “You’re completely gone.”
“Shut up.”
I turn my back on them and push open my bedroom door.
The holo-shot from our ride through the lower districts still glows half-projected above the terminal from where I left it last night, Rowan standing beside the hoverbike in my jacket and glaring at me while the city lights burn gold behind him like he’s already become something dangerous to lose.
Which is... yeah. Probably a problem.
Another argument drifts down the hallway followed by Damaris threatening somebody over the food again. Lucan’s laugh carries a second later before a knock lands against my half-open door.
He leans against the frame when I glance up, still looking too entertained. “You were asking around about Rowan’s sister?”
My shoulders tense. “Close the door.”
Lucan pushes off the frame and shuts it behind him.
“What did you find?” I ask.
He grimaces. “Not much. That’s the problem. There’s basically nothing attached to the name Sola Ashford anywhere official.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Lucan looks uneasy for the first time all day.
“Exactly what it sounds like.” He catches me staring at him before dragging a hand through his hair.
“Either somebody buried the information deep, or she stopped existing a long time ago. You sure Rowan didn’t give you anything else? Photos? Locations? Anything?”
“Nope.”
“That’s weird, though.” He folds his arms. “If he’s been looking for her this long, you’d think he’d have more.”
I think about Rowan standing beside the railing during our ride, shoulders tight while he tried to tell me the truth without actually telling me anything.
“Something’s wrong,” I mutter.
“Yeah. No shit.”
Lucan studies me. “You know what I don’t get?”
“What?”
“Your dad told you to keep an eye on Rowan weeks ago.” He folds his arms tighter. “So how the hell did you go from watching him to acting like this?”
I lean back against the desk. “Acting like what?”
“Seriously?”
“He got under my skin. Happy now?”
“No shit.” Lucan drags a hand through his hair. “You were supposed to figure out whether something strange was going on around him, not start sleeping with the guy.”
“He’s not dangerous.”
“That’s not the point.” Lucan looks at me hard. “You stopped being objective a long time ago.”
“Look at him,” I say before I can think better of it. “You really think Rowan’s dangerous?”
Lucan’s expression shifts. “Dangerous?” he repeats. “Nah. But that doesn’t mean he’s safe either.”
Oh, I know all about that.
What’s also not safe is me promising Dad that Rowan has nothing to do with whatever the hell they’ve been chasing all this time. That was weeks ago, before the Legacy Gala and before everybody started acting strange afterward.
The streets have felt restless ever since, and Dad’s been on my ass constantly, disappearing into meetings and asking questions he normally wouldn’t care enough to ask.
What pisses me off most is that Mom and Dad clearly know more than they’re telling us. I can feel it every time they dodge questions or change the subject the second I walk into a room.
And honestly? If they refuse to tell me what the hell is going on, they can’t blame me for getting distracted by Rowan instead.
“For fuck’s sake.” Lucan squints at me. “You’re not even listening anymore, are you?”
“I am, fucker, you’re just not that interesting.”
“No, you’re absolutely not.” He points at me. “Get that stupid grin off your face. You look ugly.”
I snort. “Funny coming from the guy who practically follows Damaris around the kitchen like a lost husband.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
“Or what?” Lucan straightens, ready, one brow lifting in a challenge.
“Boys,” Rafe groans from the couch. “Fucking hell. Can we not do this before dinner?”
“He started it.” Lucan pouts without looking away from me.
“You’re older than me.”
“By six months.”
“Still counts.”
Lucan flips me off with a sharp exhale. “I’m serious, though. Uncle Christian specifically asked you to look into Rowan when he arrived. You should’ve told us that from the start.”
My grin fades. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“And now?”
I glance toward my multi-slate lying beside the desk.
mouse: Halvern says if you keep staring through the practice cube windows he’s filing another complaint.
me: can’t help it if my boyfriend’s distracting
The corner of my mouth kicks up.
Fuck me. Lucan’s right. I’m completely fucked.
Because somewhere between the hidden Noctis room and the night rides and Rowan falling asleep in my bed half the week, this stopped feeling temporary.
He hates waking up early unless he absolutely has to, so half the time I leave breakfast outside his practice room after training just to make sure he eats before disappearing into rehearsals for another six hours. And every single time, he pretends he doesn’t like it.
Rafe finally drags himself upright from the couch while Lucan wanders into my room like he owns the place, opening the liquor cabinet my aunt restocked last week.
“She seriously left the Veyran Reserve in here?” He pulls out one of the crystal bottles and squints at the label. “That’s optimistic.”
“You mean irresponsible.”
“Same thing in this family.” He pours himself a drink anyway before glancing back at me. “Now seriously. You didn’t think Rowan mattered before. What do you think now?”
I lean back against the desk, folding my arms. “I think Dad knows more than he’s saying.”
Lucan’s expression shifts. “Yeah. Mom too.”
Ever since the Legacy Gala, the entire house has felt different. Tense. Like everybody’s waiting for something to happen.
And since the Reach vote, security briefings seemed to multiply overnight. More guards. More patrols. More conversations stopping the second someone my age walked into the room.