“Ah, a very lush country. Filled with rich folklore traditions.” Rowan’s tone remained casual, conversational, but something in his eyes had sharpened.
I watched Alice stiffen—subtle but unmistakable, her spine straightening, her hands going still. “It is, but most of that folklore stems from generational families holding ties to the old ways. Tradition, superstition, that sort of thing. Nothing anyone takes seriously anymore.”
“And you came all the way here to the States for university?” Rowan’s tone held a genuine curiosity.
“The school was paid for and chosen by Natalia’s father.” Alice’s voice had gone carefully neutral, each word selected with care.
I heard the hidden message beneath her careful phrasing as clearly as if she’d screamed it:I didn’t choose to come here. I was sent.
“Well, it must be nice having Natalia visit,” I offered, trying to ease whatever tension was thickening the air.
Alice seemed to consider this, her expression softening slightly. “It has been, though I’m certain her father isn’t pleased about it. She has duties back home she’s been avoiding by coming here so often.”
“Sounds awful,” I muttered, thinking of families who treated their children like obligations rather than people. Like property to be managed rather than individuals to be cherished.
Like Edward treated the girls he owned.
“Some of us are held down by things others cannot understand.” Alice’s words came out quiet, weighted with meaning that felt both universal and intensely personal.
Rowan’s eyes cut to mine immediately—not a glance, but a full, loaded stare that pinned me in place. His wintery gaze held understanding and recognition, and something that made my breath catch.
I turned away, breaking eye contact before the weight of his perception could crack something open inside me. “Well, I’m glad we’re dormmates. You’re easily lovable, Alice. Unlike someone I know.”
I didn’t look at Rowan as I said it, but I felt his attention on me like a heat-seeking beacon. He let out a small chuckle and returned to his book, apparently unbothered by my barb.
Alice smiled then, the expression genuine and warm enough to push back the heaviness that had settled over our conversation. “That’s sweet of you to say, Violet. I feel the same.”
She settled at her desk with her laptop, and the room fell into comfortable quiet—three people coexisting in shared space without needing to perform or explain or justify.
I should have felt trapped with Rowan constantly in my orbit, invading my privacy, occupying my bed like he had every right to be there. Instead, I felt something dangerously close to safe.
And that terrified me more than his surveillance ever could.
Chapter 16
Rowan
Wednesday morning, barely past six, the campus was still quiet except for the dedicated few who rose before dawn. Violet was walking to her morning class, eyes downcast as she rushed through the central courtyard with the single-minded focus of someone trying to remain invisible.
As I waited in a nearby oak tree—my feet dangling from a thick branch roughly fifteen feet above the ground—I pushed down my frustrated annoyance. Violet had left without waiting for me, as a rather disheveled Alice explained when I knocked on their dorm door. I wondered if I should I have installed a GPS tracker on her phone? At least then I would be done with the cat-and-mouse game she seemed determined to play.
The bark pressed rough against my dark jeans, and my hands were sticky from sap that smelled sharp and green—pine resin that would take scrubbing to remove. It had been years since I’d climbed consistently, not since my previous life when trees meant surveillance points and elevated positions meant survival. My muscles burned with the pleasant strain of supporting my weight, my core engaged to maintain balance, my forearms tight from gripping branches.
I miss this.The clarity that comes from physical exertion, from using my body the way it’s meant to be used.
A group of three girls dressed in workout gear passed beneath my perch, their voices bright with morning energy despite the early hour. One glanced up, following the line of the trunk, and her eyes widened when she spotted me.
She grabbed her friend’s arm, pointing. All three stared for a long moment—taking in the sight of a six-foot-five man casually lounging in a tree like some overgrown cat. I could see the exact moment recognition shifted to appreciation, the way their gazes traveled over my frame, lingering on places that made their intentions clear.
One whispered something to her companions that made them all giggle. They looked back up at me with eyes that held invitation before walking away quickly, glancing over their shoulders twice.
I knew I was drawing attention. Knew I looked absurd perched in a tree on Shademore’s campus.
I did not care.
Violet was getting closer, her purple duffel bag slung over one shoulder, dressed in a simple grey tank top and navy shorts with a to-go cup clutched in her other hand. Steam rose from the cup’s small opening, carrying the scent of coffee and something sweet. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, the red streaks catching early morning sunlight that filtered through the oak’s leaves in dappled patterns.
I timed my descent perfectly, releasing my grip and dropping directly into her path.
