Rowan isn’t what’s going to tear us apart.
She’s what’s going to keep us whole.
And I need to find a way to be okay with her doing that.
“So, are we going to do this?” Bram asks cockily. “I can handle whatever the Ashmark needs to do.”
I deeply wish otherwise right about now.
Rowan doesn’t hesitate. “If you’re ready, then I am.”
She steps out of my space, and Elias grips my shoulder as she goes toward Bram, moving like she’s crossing a lineshe’s already measured a hundred times. Calm and focused. That might be the most terrifying part for me. Even though I understand the truth of it, I hate more than anything that this is what she’s made for, that she has to take on the darkness for the good of others.
She deserves so much better than that fate.
“Stand still,” she says with a bravado I can only respect.
Liz moves to stand next to me, eagerly watching what’s to come. “She’s going to change the world.”
I’m already fully aware.
Bram arches a brow. “Right out here? No private room? No magical runes? No dramatic warning about my soul unraveling?”
“Who says I give warnings?” she replies pleasantly. “There are always risks. You’re welcome to crawl back to the forest you came from if you’re worried.”
I smirk before I can stop myself. She’s becoming more like an alpha’s luna without even realizing it. Her strength is intoxicating.
“That’s our girl,” Liz whispers.
Bram exhales and nods once. “Fine. Do your worst,Rowan.”
I don’t like the way he says her name, then looks at me. I don’t like that he’s standing so close to my mate when my instincts are screaming to put myself between them. But Rowan meets my eyes briefly—just long enough to tell me she’s got this.
So, I force myself to stay still, watching every movement as Rowan lifts her hand and places it flat against Bram’s chest.
At first, nothing happens, not like the instantconnection when she was healing Taren, but then the air changes.
I feel it before anything else. A pressure shift, like the world is taking a careful step back. The space around Rowan tightens, pulling inward instead of bursting out. The ground beneath our feet hums low and steady, not angry or wild but controlled.
Bram stiffens, and his jaw clenches as his breath stutters once, then evens out again, like he’s forcing himself through something thick and cold. I watch his pupils dilate, his shoulders tense as if he’s bracing against a weight only he can feel.
Rowan’s expression doesn’t change.
Her power doesn’t lash out. Itdraws in.
I don’t see magic leave him the way I expect. Her veins don’t turn black like before, and she doesn’t make a noise. There’s no visible thread, no dramatic siphoning.
It’s subtler than that this time. Like frost melting under the sun, like a shadow being peeled away layer by layer until there’s nothing left to cling to.
Bram exhales sharply. “Ah. There it is,” he mutters. “That buzzing. Gods, I hate that.”
Rowan’s fingers flex once against his chest.
The hum coming from her deepens then fades. Her shoulders tighten, and I take a step forward but force myself to stop. I have to let her do this. Not only for her, but for us.
Bram sways, just barely, catching himself before he stumbles. His eyes are clear, focus sharpening as he looks at Rowan like he’s seeing her for the first time without something whispering in his head.
“Well,” he says hoarsely. “That was deeply uncomfortable.”
