We sink closer together. I expect Rowen to pull away, but he doesn’t.
He queues up an old movie that looks like it was filmed in someone’s basement.
I snort. “What is this?”
“A low-budget masterpiece.”
“Are you trying to make me suffer even more?”
He laughs. “I’ve got a soft spot for them thanks to my theater days.”
I can’t hide my surprise. “You’re a theater geek?”
“Was, yeah.” He crosses his feet at the ankles and tucks an arm behind his head. “I was in theater for twelve years and had like, oh, forty performances? Lost count. Anyway, I loved it. Wanted to go to Broadway, actually. But my dad died and…” He shrugs, like that explains the rest. “The pack needed me.”
It hits me in the chest, how much he gave up for others. That’s the shifter way, though, isn’t it? Family first, always. That’s what I’ve heard.
I can’t stand the thought of Rowen giving up his dream. There has to be a way he can have both. “I’m sure you can find a club in Prodigy or something. The city is bursting with culture and entertainment and stuff.”
Rowen shrugs. “I was going to look into it once, but things got too dangerous. I kept hearing about people disappearing in the city, and then our neighbor died. So, anyway. Someday, when it all calms down, I’ll look into it. But I can’t right now. My pack needs me.”
I squeeze his arm. “I’m sorry, Ro. Believe me, I know what it’s like to be forced to give up something you love.”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Guess that’s why you get it.”
His gaze lingers, warm and steady, and I feel it—like he’s looking past the noise and confusion and seeing the real me hiding under it all. He shifts slightly closer, just enough to close the space between us.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he murmurs, voice low. “Not because of what you’ve done or what you went through… but because you keep going. Always remember that, okay?”
Something in my chest eases, a knot I didn’t realize I’d been holding. For once, I don’t want to run from it. For once, I believe him.
I still don’t know what to make of it—of any of this. My past, my future. The mark on my shoulder. But most of all, I’m not sure what to think about him.
Rowen is surprising in the best way. Being near him makes everything a little less scary.
Halfway through the movie, I turn on my side and shift closer, without touching. At some point, my eyes close and the dialogue fades. The last thing I notice is Rowen’s soft laugh at the screen, the sound of popcorn shifting in the bowl.
And then I’m gone—fast asleep beside him.
13
ROWEN
Tobias falls asleep halfway through the movie, curled awkwardly in the beanbag, his fist nestled against my shoulder. The soft flicker of the screen paints his face in pale gold, his lips parted slightly, lashes trembling like he’s still caught between worlds.
I should wake him. Forest would have a fit if he knew Tobias was sleeping in my room.
But I don’t care.
As carefully as I can, I crawl off the beanbag, then drape a blanket over Tobias. He turns into it, making a soft sound in his sleep that tugs at my heart. Stars above, this man has been through hell, yet right now, it’s like nothing bad has ever touched him. He looks so peaceful. So beautiful.
Aside, of course, from the thick scars around his wrists. They gleam silver in the dim light.
I grit my teeth, quelling the sudden anger. There’s no point raging at ghosts—I can’t change what happened to him. All I can do now is make sure he’s safe.
I see the laptop on the floor beside Tobias, and my curiosity gets the better of me. I sit back on my bed with it.
After typing in the password, it opens directly to Photoshop, where the last few photos are still open. I use the keypad to scroll, knowing the mouse on this ancient thing would be loud enough to wake him.
