Moonbound Mates

Chapter Fifteen

By the time Rowan and Lyra returned to the packhouse, Rowan was carrying enough bags to qualify as a traveling merchant.

Lyra carried exactly one.

A pastry.

Which she was actively eating.

Rowan stared at her.

"You bought more things than I did."

Lyra nodded.

"Correct."

"Then why am I carrying everything?"

"Because you're stronger."

Rowan considered dropping all seven bags.

Directly on Lyra.

Unfortunately, Lyra seemed to sense the thought immediately.

"Violence is not the answer."

"It could be."

"It isn't."

"It absolutely could be."

Lyra laughed.

The sound echoed through the front courtyard as they approached the packhouse.

Several warriors looked up.

Then immediately looked away.

Too quickly.

Suspiciously quickly.

Rowan narrowed her eyes.

Something was wrong.

The moment they stepped inside, she received confirmation.

A young warrior nearly walked into a wall because he was staring at her.

Another one abruptly found the floor fascinating.

A third choked on his drink.

Rowan stopped walking.

Slowly.

"What."

Lyra immediately looked delighted.

"Oh."

"No."

"Oh yes."

"What."

Lyra grinned.

"The entire pack knows."

Rowan closed her eyes.

Of course they did.

Naturally.

Why wouldn't they?

The Council had probably mailed invitations.

The deeper they moved into the packhouse, the worse it became.

People smiled.

Smirked.

Nodded.

One elderly woman actually winked.

Rowan contemplated leaving.

Immediately.

Perhaps permanently.

"You're enjoying this."

Lyra didn't even attempt to deny it.

"A little."

"A little?"

"An enormous amount."

At least she was honest.

Fortunately, Lyra abandoned her near the main staircase after announcing she needed to check on something.

Rowan suspected that "something" was finding people to gossip with.

Which left Rowan alone.

Unfortunately.

Because there was someone she needed to find.

Jace.

She located him near the training grounds.

The moment he spotted her, he turned around.

And started walking away.

Rowan stared.

Then followed him.

Jace walked faster.

She matched his pace.

He sighed.

She kept following.

Eventually, he stopped.

Slowly.

Like a man accepting his fate.

"I don't want to be involved."

"You aren't involved."

"I am."

"No."

"Rowan."

"Jace."

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

The gesture carried years of suffering.

Mostly caused by Lyra.

Probably.

"What do you want?"

"You don't even know what I was going to ask."

Jace gave her a look.

"It's about Kael."

Rowan opened her mouth.

Then closed it.

"That's not the point."

"It is exactly the point."

Rowan frowned.

"Fine."

Jace looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"Where is he?"

"There it is."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"Fair."

Jace immediately started walking again.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Rowan caught up.

"Jace."

"No."

"He can't avoid me forever."

"He can certainly try."

"Where is he?"

Jace groaned.

The sound was deeply heartfelt.

"Busy."

"Doing what?"

"Alpha things."

Rowan narrowed her eyes.

Jace narrowed his right back.

Neither moved.

Finally—

"He's hiding, isn't he?"

Jace looked offended.

Jace looked offended.

Then resigned.

Then annoyed.

All in the span of two seconds.

"Maybe."

Rowan laughed.

Actually laughed.

The realization was too good.

"The Alpha of Silver Moon is hiding."

"The Alpha of Silver Moon is a smart man."

"From me?"

"From this."

He gestured vaguely.

Again.

"Very different."

Rowan's smile widened.

Jace immediately regretted speaking.

Good.

"You know," Rowan said thoughtfully, "this makes me feel better."

"It shouldn't."

"It does."

"Why?"

"Because I thought I was the only one dreading tonight."

Jace stared at her.

Then snorted.

A genuine laugh escaped him.

"Rowan."

"What?"

"You think you're nervous?"

The answer was obvious.

"Yes."

Jace looked almost sympathetic.

Almost.

Then it disappeared.

"That's adorable."

Rowan blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"He spent twenty minutes reorganizing paperwork that didn't need reorganizing."

"What?"

"He alphabetized reports."

"That sounds normal."

"It wasn't."

A pause.

"Twice."

Rowan stared.

Then laughed again.

This time harder.

The image was ridiculous.

Kael.

Terrifying Alpha Kael.

Defender of Silver Moon.

Destroyer of enemies.

Conqueror of—

Paperwork.

Jace looked pleased with himself.

"Exactly."

For a moment, the awkwardness surrounding the evening eased.

Just slightly.

Then reality returned.

Unfortunately.

Rowan sighed.

"I hate this Council."

"Everyone hates this Council."

"Good."

"They know."

"What?"

"That everyone hates them."

That somehow felt worse.

After leaving Jace, Rowan headed toward her room.

Her room.

The phrase still felt strange.

Nothing about Silver Moon felt permanent.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

She climbed the stairs slowly.

The day's exhaustion finally catching up to her.

Shopping, apparently, was more physically demanding than combat.

An unpleasant discovery.

───

The hallway was quiet.

For once.

Most pack members were downstairs preparing for dinner.

Which left Rowan blissfully alone.

At least until she reached her door.

Then she noticed something.

A tray.

Waiting outside.

She frowned.

Balanced on top was a note.

Simple.

Neat handwriting.

Dinner. Since Lyra informed the entire pack you'd be hiding in your room.

Rowan stared.

Then sighed.

Slowly.

Because that was absolutely something Lyra would do.

She picked up the tray and carried it inside.

───

The room looked normal.

Mostly.

The bed remained exactly where it had always been.

Her bags sat neatly arranged near the wall.

Several of her new purchases had already been unpacked.

Probably by helpful pack members.

Or terrifyingly efficient servants.

The tray went onto a nearby table.

Rowan kicked off her boots.

And finally relaxed.

Just a little.

The day had been good.

Unexpectedly good.

She'd laughed.

More than once.

Spent time with Lyra.

Seen Silver Moon through different eyes.

For the first time since arriving—

She wasn't actively miserable.

Progress.

───

Then she noticed the couch.

And everything came crashing down.

───

A folded blanket.

A pillow.

Another folded blanket.

Neatly arranged.

Waiting.

Ready.

Prepared.

For a guest.

Rowan froze.

"Oh."

The word escaped before she could stop it.

Because somehow—

Somehow—

She'd forgotten.

Not entirely.

But enough.

Enough to enjoy her afternoon.

Enough to stop thinking about it.

Enough to pretend this wasn't happening.

But now—

The evidence sat directly in front of her.

A second pillow.

A second blanket.

A second person.

───

Kael.

───

Sleeping here.

Tonight.

In this room.

A few feet away.

Close enough to hear breathing.

Close enough to smell him.

Close enough for the bond to notice.

Rowan groaned.

Loudly.

Then buried her face in her hands.

This was a nightmare.

A very specific nightmare.

Designed exclusively by people who hated her.

───

The worst part?

Kael had clearly arranged the couch himself.

She knew that immediately.

Because everything was too thoughtful.

Too practical.

Too considerate.

The couch was far enough away to provide privacy.

The blankets looked comfortable.

Nothing about the arrangement felt presumptuous.

Or arrogant.

Or inappropriate.

Which somehow made it worse.

Because she couldn't even be angry.

───

Rowan dropped onto the edge of the bed.

Staring at the couch.

The couch stared back.

Judgmentally.

Probably.

───

"This is ridiculous."

The room offered no argument.

Coward.

───

Minutes passed.

Then more.

Eventually she forced herself to eat dinner.

Then unpack a few things.

Then organize the new clothes.

Anything to stay busy.

Anything to avoid thinking.

Unfortunately, thinking found her anyway.

───

What if neither of them slept?

What if the bond acted strange?

What if it became awkward?

More awkward.

Was that possible?

Probably.

Knowing her luck.

Absolutely.

Then Rowan caught a faint whiff of herself.

She froze.

Slowly looked down.

Then groaned.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

She'd spent the entire day walking through town.

Hours.

Actual hours.

In the summer heat.

Carrying bags.

Climbing hills.

Being dragged through stores by Lyra.

A shower was no longer optional.

A shower was an emergency.

───

Twenty minutes later, Rowan stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.

Her hair damp.

Her skin warm from the water.

And immediately encountered a new problem.

Clothes.

Specifically—

What was she supposed to wear to bed?

She stared at her open bag.

Then at the neatly folded clothes she'd bought that day.

Then back at the bag.

None of the options felt right.

Normal sleep clothes?

Too casual.

One of the oversized shirts she'd brought from home?

Too personal.

Something nicer?

Absolutely not.

She wasn't dressing up for bedtime.

That would be insane.

Rowan stared at a simple pair of sleep shorts.

Then immediately put them back.

No.

Definitely not.

The oversized shirt came back out.

Then went back in.

Then came back out again.

"This is ridiculous."

The shirt offered no opinion.

Coward.

Eventually she settled on a long sleep shirt that fell nearly to her knees.

Comfortable.

Practical.

And most importantly—

Impossible to overthink.

Probably.

She pulled it on.

Then stared at herself in the mirror.

Then turned sideways.

Then turned back.

Why was she doing that?

She had no idea.

She immediately walked away from the mirror.

───

A knock sounded at the door.

Rowan froze.

Instantly.

Every thought vanished.

Every movement stopped.

The room fell silent.

Another knock.

Softer this time.

Then—

"Rowan?"

Kael.

Her stomach immediately betrayed her.

Traitor.

She stared at the door.

The couch.

The blankets.

Then the door again.

As though one of them might offer assistance.

Neither did.

Of course.

Outside, silence waited.

Along with the Alpha of Silver Moon.

And apparently the longest night of her life.