Moonbound Mates

Chapter Sixteen

Rowan stared at the door.

The door stared back.

Neither of them seemed willing to make the first move.

Outside, silence lingered.

Then—

"Rowan?"

Kael again.

Gods.

She took a breath.

Then another.

Then a third.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered.

The door offered no argument.

Coward.

Finally, Rowan crossed the room and pulled it open.

Kael stood in the hallway.

For a moment neither of them spoke.

His gaze flicked briefly toward her damp hair.

Then immediately away.

Not awkwardly.

Deliberately.

Respectfully.

Which somehow made everything more awkward.

"Hi," Rowan said.

Brilliant.

A conversational masterpiece.

"Hi."

Excellent.

They were both doing great.

Silence settled between them.

Then Kael lifted one shoulder slightly.

"The hallway was starting to become suspicious."

Rowan blinked.

"What?"

"I've been standing here for nearly five minutes."

Despite herself, she laughed.

Just once.

Kael looked relieved.

Which was concerning.

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

Neither moved.

Then Rowan stepped aside.

Kael entered carefully, closing the door behind him.

The room immediately felt smaller.

Not because of him.

Because of the awareness of him.

The bond stirred.

Content.

Annoying.

Rowan ignored it.

Mostly.

Kael's eyes landed briefly on the couch.

Then the bed.

Then anywhere except her.

Good.

At least she wasn't the only one suffering.

"Lyra had fun with this," Rowan said.

Kael sighed.

"She's been unbearable."

"Only recently?"

"No."

"Fair."

A ghost of amusement touched his mouth.

Gone almost instantly.

Silence returned.

Not hostile.

Just uncertain.

Two people trying to figure out how to exist in the same room without making things worse.

Eventually Kael rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.

"I'll stay out of your way."

Rowan glanced toward the couch.

"You don't have to sleep on that."

"Yes, I do."

The answer came immediately.

Certain.

She frowned.

"It's your packhouse."

"It's your room."

The words settled quietly between them.

Neither argued after that.

Because there wasn't really anything to argue about.

Eventually Kael gathered the blanket from the couch.

Rowan turned down the lamps.

One by one.

Until only a single light remained.

Then that one too.

Darkness settled over the room.

The couch creaked softly as Kael lay down.

A few feet away, Rowan slid beneath the blankets.

The room became quiet.

Not uncomfortable.

Just aware.

The kind of silence that existed because there were too many things neither of them wanted to say.

Minutes passed.

Then more.

Rowan stared at the ceiling.

Sleep refused to cooperate.

The bond hummed softly.

Not demanding.

Just present.

She could hear the faint rustle of blankets from the couch.

The distant sounds of the packhouse settling for the night.

Someone laughing far away.

A door closing.

Then silence again.

Her eyes drifted toward the dark outline of the ceiling.

Toward thoughts she didn't particularly want.

Toward questions she couldn't seem to stop asking.

Finally—

"Kael?"

A pause.

Then his voice drifted through the darkness.

"Yeah?"

For some reason, hearing him answer made the question harder.

Rowan swallowed.

"What do you think life would be like..."

She hesitated.

Then continued.

"If the circumstances were different?"

Silence.

Not avoiding.

Thinking.

So she kept going.

"If you didn't have Evelyn."

A pause.

"If I didn't have to leave my pack."

The room fell quiet again.

Long enough that she wondered if he'd answer at all.

Then—

"I think it would've been easier."

His voice was low.

Honest.

No hesitation.

No defensiveness.

Just truth.

Rowan stared into the darkness.

"Easier?"

"Yeah."

A faint sigh came from the couch.

"I think I would've met you and been happy about it."

The words landed softly.

Far more softly than they should have.

Kael continued before she could respond.

"There wouldn't be a Council."

A small pause.

"No trial."

Another.

"No one getting hurt."

Rowan's chest tightened unexpectedly.

She remained silent.

So did he.

For a moment she thought that was the end of it.

Then Kael spoke again.

Quieter this time.

"So I probably would've spent the last week trying to convince you to stop threatening me."

Despite everything, Rowan laughed.

Despite everything, Rowan laughed.

The sound slipped out before she could stop it.

A soft huff of amusement came from the couch.

The closest thing to a laugh she'd ever heard from him.

The room settled into silence again.

Gentler this time.

Less strained.

Less sharp.

Rowan stared into the darkness.

Thinking about his answer.

Thinking about everything that could have been different.

The bond hummed quietly between them.

Steady.

Listening.

Finally, she spoke.

"So would I."

The words came out barely above a whisper.

From the couch, she felt him go still.

Rowan swallowed.

"If things were different."

Silence.

Then—

"I think I would've been happy to find you too."

The admission hung in the darkness between them.

Honest.

Careful.

Safe only because neither of them had to look at the other while saying it.

A faint smile touched her lips.

"I spent years waiting for my mate."

Her voice softened.

"Saving myself for him."

The memories surfaced easily.

The dreams she'd had.

The future she'd imagined.

A life built around someone she'd never met.

Someone she believed was waiting somewhere.

"If circumstances were different..."

She stared at the ceiling.

"...I think I would've thought the wait was worth it."

Silence followed.

Heavy.

Not uncomfortable.

Just real.

Rowan wondered if she'd said too much.

Then she heard a slow exhale from the couch.

Not surprise.

Not rejection.

Something quieter.

Something that somehow felt more dangerous.

Because for the first time since they'd met—

Neither of them sounded like they were talking about severing the bond.

The nightmare felt real.

That was the worst part.

Not strange.

Not distorted.

Real.

Rowan stood in the center of Cedar Ridge.

Only it wasn't Cedar Ridge.

Not anymore.

The forests were wrong.

The training grounds were empty.

The packhouse stood abandoned beneath a gray sky.

"Dad?"

Her voice echoed.

No answer.

Fear crawled into her chest.

"Dad!"

She started running.

Past empty homes.

Past silent streets.

Past warriors who didn't recognize her.

Faces she had known her entire life looked through her as though she wasn't there.

As though she'd already left.

As though she'd already been forgotten.

The panic became unbearable.

Connor walked past.

Edrin.

People she'd grown up with.

None of them stopped.

None of them looked at her.

She wasn't part of Cedar Ridge anymore.

She wasn't one of them.

The realization hit like a blade between her ribs.

"No."

The word cracked.

"Dad!"

She reached the small house at the edge of the territory.

Home.

Her home.

She threw the door open.

Empty.

The house was empty.

"No."

Her voice broke.

"No, no, no—"

Then she heard it.

A voice.

Distant.

Fading.

"Sweetheart."

Her father's voice.

Rowan spun.

"Dad!"

The forest swallowed the sound.

"Please!"

The panic became terror.

"Don't leave me!"

Everything started disappearing.

The house.

The trees.

The pack.

Home itself seemed to unravel around her.

Piece by piece.

Until there was nothing left.

Nothing except—

Silver Moon.

The towering walls.

The unfamiliar streets.

The life she never asked for.

The life she couldn't escape.

And suddenly she couldn't breathe.

"Dad!"

Someone grabbed her shoulders.

The world shattered.

Rowan jerked awake.

A sob tore from her throat.

For one disorienting second she didn't know where she was.

Then she saw him.

Kael sat on the edge of the bed.

One hand still on her shoulder.

His expression tight with concern.

"Rowan."

Her chest heaved.

Tears burned unexpectedly behind her eyes.

Gods.

She hated crying.

Especially in front of people.

Especially him.

"You were yelling."

His voice remained low.

Careful.

"You were crying."

Embarrassment immediately followed.

Wonderful.

Exactly what she needed.

Rowan scrubbed a hand across her face.

"It was just a dream."

Kael didn't call it just anything.

He waited.

Patiently.

The silence stretched.

Then finally—

"It was Cedar Ridge."

The words came out rough.

Raw.

"I couldn't get back."

Kael's expression shifted.

Only slightly.

Enough.

Rowan looked away.

"My father was there."

Her throat tightened.

"And no matter what I did..."

A shaky breath escaped.

"I couldn't get home."

The room fell silent.

For a long moment, Kael said nothing.

Then quietly—

"That will never be your reality."

Rowan looked up.

His gaze met hers steadily.

"Cedar Ridge is your home."

The words were simple.

Certain.

"No trial changes that."

Something in her chest tightened.

Then loosened.

Just slightly.

Kael's voice softened.

"Your father isn't going anywhere."

Neither is your pack.

He didn't say the words.

He didn't need to.

For the first time since waking up, Rowan felt herself breathe properly.

The panic began to fade.

Leaving only exhaustion behind.

Kael remained sitting on the bed for another moment.

Then he stood.

The mattress shifted beneath his weight.

Rowan watched him turn toward the couch.

One step.

Then another.

Then he stopped.

The room fell quiet.

For several seconds neither moved.

Neither spoke.

Then Kael exhaled slowly.

As though arguing with himself.

As though making a decision.

When he turned around, Rowan immediately knew.

Neither of them acknowledged it.

Not a single word.

Kael crossed back to the bed.

Pulled back the blanket on the far side.

And climbed in.

The mattress dipped.

Rowan froze.

So did he.

The darkness seemed suddenly aware of itself.

Neither moved closer.

Neither touched the other.

Several inches remained between them.

Careful.

Respectful.

Safe.

Yet somehow—

Not alone.

The room settled around them.

Quiet.

Still.

Rowan stared into the darkness.

Aware of the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Aware of the warmth beside her.

Aware that for the first time since arriving at Silver Moon—

The room didn't feel unfamiliar.

It felt occupied.

Protected.

Home wasn't here.

Not yet.

Maybe never.

But as exhaustion finally dragged her under, Rowan found herself thinking one last thing.

The nightmare had ended the moment she wasn't alone anymore.

And for tonight—

That was enough.