He straightens slightly, gaze sliding past me to where she stands on the steps, sunlight catching in her hair. Whatever he expected to see, it isn’t this. Not fragile. Not monstrous. Just…Rowan.
He nods once, respectful in a way that surprises me.
“As I was saying,” Bram says plainly. “I want to know why I was supposed to want her dead and why someone tried to go so far as to control my mind to get me on board with the whole‘murder the Ashmark’plan.”
Rowan joins me on the right and takes my hand, her fingers warm and steady against mine. She stands tall at my side, shoulders squared, chin lifted like she belongs here, because she does.
My wolf bristles instantly. Another alpha this close to her is a problem on instinct alone. But when Rowan speaks, I know better than to stop her.
“Because they’re afraid of who I am,” she says lightly, a sweet smile curving her mouth. Though there’s steel beneath it. “Care to find out if they’re right to be scared?”
Pride swells sharp and dangerous in my chest.
Bram chuckles, low and amused. “Oh, sweetheart. I welcome the challenge. But I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
The word snaps something feral inside me.
Don’t do it, Elias warns, and is promptly ignored.
I release Rowan and step forward in one smooth motion, gripping the front of his shirt and hauling him close enough that he can no doubt feel my breath on his face. “Call her anything other than Rowan again,” I growl, “and you’ll find out what a real challenge looks like.”
Bram doesn’t flinch.
Our gazes lock, alpha against alpha, pressure rolling between us like a storm front. His presence is strong, solid and seasoned, but it doesn’t eclipse mine. Not even close. I hold my ground, making sure he understands exactly what it means that I’m standing here now.
I left once.
I won’t again.
A beat passes.
Then Bram’s mouth quirks. “Fair enough.”
I let him go and step back, reclaiming my place at Rowan’s side without breaking eye contact. “Taren is still here, but she’s resting. If you want to come inside?—”
“No.” Rowan cuts in before I can finish.
I glance at her, but she doesn’t look at me. Her attention is fixed on Bram. “Not until he’s free of Malrik’s influence.”
Liz moves closer, stopping just behind us, her presence a silent threat. “How do you know that?”
Rowan doesn’t hesitate. “Because I know Malrik.”
Bram’s grin sharpens, but his gaze returns to me with something like respect. “Your mate’s intuitive,” he says. “And she’s right. That bastard’s still swimming around in there.” He exhales through his nose. “I’d love to say Ihaven’t fallen victim to his antics, but after what I’ve seen him do to others, I can’t be certain.”
I turn back to Rowan, concern tightening my chest. “Are you sure it isn’t too soon after Taren? What happened earlier…”
I swore earlier that she was never doing this again, but I knew the words were a lie even then. I can’t hold her back from what she was meant for. Even when I hate it.
Still, I won’t let her put herself at risk if I see any doubt in her eyes.
“Taren was my first,” she says calmly. “And she was near death. He’s not.” She meets my stare, unwavering. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”
She said the same thing earlier. The same fire burns in her gaze now.
My mate doesn’t bend, she doesn’t retreat, and no matter how much my instincts scream to shield her, I know better than to cage what was never meant to be contained.
I knew her path was going to be complicated from the beginning, and the moment I saw her eyes held a connection to all the packs, it told me all I needed to know.
