Page 85

“Hiya, Devie!” Brooke chirped, waving.

Devlin barely acknowledged her with a stiff nod before fixing his glare on Rowan.

“Candy?” Rowan echoed, his brow furrowing.

“Yes,” Devlin pressed. “The candy you left her. The ones she was eating right before everything happened. The chocolates that were probablyspiked.”

A cold weight settled in my stomach. “Yeah, Rowan. Someone left me a heart-shaped box of chocolates that night, and, I mean... with everything that happened that summer...”

“It wasn’t Rowan,” Brooke cut in. “He wasn’t even here.”

Devlin’s sharp gaze flicked to me before settling on Rowan, waiting for an explanation.

Rowan scratched the back of his braid, looking sheepish. “Yeah... A few days before that night, your dad caught me in your room—uh, sorry again, Jenny—and after scaring the life out of me, he personally marched me all the way home to tell my parents.” He let out a dry laugh. “My mom was mortified. She sent me straight to my aunt’s across the country for the rest of the summer.”

Brooke nodded. “Yep. I video-called him multiple times a day to check in. He was there the whole time.”

Devlin’s scowl deepened. His shadows, however, stilled.

“The chocolates would’ve been a perfect way to spike you, though, Jenny,” Rowan said thoughtfully, running a hand over his chin.

Before I could respond, a crash sounded from somewhere off-screen.

“Dad!” Theo shrieked, immediately followed by another round of shattering noises.

Brooke flinched. “Oh, Goddess.” She sent me a quick wave before sprinting toward the disaster zone.

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jenny, I have to go before Theo levels the entire house. But if you’re free tomorrow, we should meet up and go over the chocolate theory.”

I nodded. “Uh, yeah. That’d be good. See you tomorrow.”

Another crash echoed through the call. Rowan winced. “Bye,” he said hurriedly before the screen clicked off.

I turned to Devlin, arms crossed. “Told you it wasn’t Rowan.”

Devlin scowled, clearly not convinced. “Maybe,” he muttered. “Or he could’ve coerced someone else to do it.”

I let out an exasperated breath. “Who, Devlin? Andwhy?”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Jen. His parents, maybe? He said his mom was mortified. Or maybe Brooke’s in on it too.”

I shot him a flat look. “Your theories are getting just as ridiculous as Rowan’s. Be honest—are you blaming him because you actually think he’s guilty or because you’re jealous?”

Devlin let out a sharp, humorless laugh, his features softening as he reached for me. His fingers skimmed my cheek before he cupped it fully, tilting my face toward his. “He could never take my mate—” Devlin froze. “Roommate,” he corrected quickly.

The color drained from his face, only to be replaced with a deep, mortified flush. His hand dropped away as if I’d burned him. In the next breath, he launched himself off the bed, suddenly consumed with gathering the police files as though his life depended on it.

It took a painfully long moment for his words to register.

Mate.

He called me his mate.

But... that wasn’t possible. I hadn’t summoned him. He was just some random incubus who happened to be renting my cabin. And yeah, sure, maybe I had fallen hopelessly in love with him over the last few days, but—

He couldn’t be my mate.

I didn’t summon him.