RHEA
I closed my eyes and all I could see was Rowan’s face in that video. He would have been brave, I could sense. The way he straightened his back, the way he didn’t want to cry. But I could see the fear in his eyes, how his hands trembled even though he kept them clamped on his lap.
He was a five-year-old flanked by wolves that considered him defective. Wrong. Something to be addressed or eradicated.
The rage kept me focused. Pure, seething anger at Garrett, at Silvermoon Pack, at whoever had set this up. Rage at myself for not expecting this, for believing that defeating Garrett’s conspiracy was the end of the mission and not just the beginning.
I should have known better. Should have protected Rowan better. Of course, we should have figured out that there'd be other foes gearing up
