It’s a nice thought that both of us seem to hold onto for several quiet moments before Liz adds, “And Rowan, if somethingiswrong? We’ll figure it out. Together.”
Warmth spreads through my chest—steady, grounding, and safe. “I know.”
She wraps an arm around me, squeezing hard. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” I say with a releasing sigh. “Better than I expected to be. Malrik didn’t break me. He might have come close, but I wouldn’t give in.” I pause, searching for the right explanation. “He wanted to shape me into something. But instead, I figured out who I actually am.”
Liz’s brows lift. “Which is?”
“A woman with teeth,” I say with a grin. “And control and the ability to do things that don’t scare me the way they used to.”
“Well, damn,” she murmurs with bright eyes. “Look at you sounding all powerful and emotionally stable. I’m proud. Terrified, but proud.”
I bark a laugh. “Don’t worry. I don’t feel the urge to go full Godzilla on anyone. The energy’s still there, but it doesn’t drown me anymore. I can tell it what to do instead of the other way around.”
Liz studies me closely, something evaluating flickering behind her eyes. “Good,” she says. “Because I’ve seen power drive people mad. And you’re not giving me any ‘Brace yourself. She’s about to explode’ vibes.”
“Highpraise,” I deadpan.
“The highest.”
Liz grabs my hand. “But if you ever need to talk about any of it, don’t forget that I’m here for you.”
“I know.” I offer her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “You’re one of the reasons I fought so hard to get back.”
Liz releases me, then straightens like she’s reassembling her armor, and gestures toward the door with a dramatic sweep of her arm. “Enough with the heavy. Let’s go pretend we’re normal for the rest of the day.”
I raise a brow. “Normal? What does that even mean?”
She smirks. “Fine. Let’s go be whatever the hell we are.”
And with that, we step out of the room together—into whatever comes next.
Chapter 21
ROWAN
Clothes have never seemed less important than they do right now as Archie discusses the fine art ofnot panicking before getting magically brandedwith me. My palms won’t stop sweating. My heart keeps trying to crawl up my throat. And my stomach is currently auditioning for a gymnastics team.
But sure. I’m totally fine. Everything’s great.
Archie, who’s perched on my pillow like a tiny judgmental king, seems unbothered by my impending doom. Cadeshouldbe here giving me a pep talk, but he was dragged back into pack business—something he’s slipped into so naturally that it’s both impressive and slightly annoying.
Yes, I’ve somehow grown so attached to this man that the thought of hours without him grates on my patience, but I’m hoping that’s short-lived. I can still feel Cade’s presence through the bond, warm and steady. And supposedly, once we complete the bond—via biting—it gets even stronger.
And look, I’m trying to be chill about it, but there’s no universe where “please sink your teeth into me to symbolize eternal devotion” sounds normal.
Of course, Wolf thinks it’s romantic.
Human-raised-me thinks I’m one step away from starring in a mating documentary.
But that’s a stressor for later.
“I’m going to find Stephanie,” I declare, swinging my legs off the bed. “She needs to tell the witch I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want a tattoo. Or a brand. Or magical fire etched into my skin. Whatever version she’s bringing… Just no.”
Archie’s chuckle is light, warm, and so painfully familiar that my chest aches. There were too many days without that sound, and I don’t think I’ll ever take it for granted again.
“You’re going to be fine,” he assures me, stretching his little paws before settling in again. “The pain will be short-lived, and you’ll be thankful for it many times in the future.”
