Under the Silver Moon
(Rowan’s POV)
The silver moon hung low and full in the sky, casting the world in a glow that turned every leaf to frosted lace and every breath to silver mist. The sounds of the feast had faded into the background—pups asleep, fires low, laughter settling into memory.
But Rowan didn’t want to sleep.
Not tonight.
Not when everything had finally come together.
Not when Caleb looked like that—standing barefoot beneath the sycamore tree they planted together, arms crossed over his chest, hair mussed by the breeze, eyes lit with that familiar storm of restraint and longing.
He didn’t look like a warrior.
He looked like a promise Rowan had waited a lifetime to keep.
Rowan walked toward him slowly, his feet silent on the dew-slick grass.
“You’re brooding,” he murmu
