Page 48

“Alina…”

In time, the Greenbriars would probably teach Noah to hate me, too. My son would grow up suspicious of me, constantly on edge about the fact that his mother is fated to ruin his father.

As if he can read the thoughts on my face, Rowan takes another step closer.

“The Greenbriars do not hate you, Alina.” His voice is soft and calm, but there’s a note of ferocity that runs like an undercurrent underneath the words. As if he’s desperate for me to believe him. “It is true that many approved of your decision to flee, but it is also true that many more lamented the loss of a strong, smart wolf. Your parents were highly respected, and so I’m sure you know that the other elders always thought fondly of you.”

“Fondly, yes, but not enough to forgive me for what’s stated in that stupid prophecy.”

After that conversation with Zahra, it hits me again just how ridiculous it all sounds. An old woman spun out a vague poem, and then a Fated pairing was suddenly and irrevocably doomed. No reasons given. No evidence.

Rowan comes closer, and I have nowhere to go, backed as I am against the kitchen cabinets.

Yet, at the same time, that old urge to escape his proximity is nowhere to be seen. Not in this moment. Fighting the way I crave his closeness is exhausting, and I don’t have it in me right now.

“When the prophecy was given, I don’t think anyone ever expected that it would come to fruition,” Rowan tells me, tone smooth and pensive. “It was a vague enough warning that I think most members of the pack assumed wouldn’t become a real issue. Maybe I’d never meet my true Mate. Maybe my Mate belonged to a pack on the other side of the country, and our paths would never get to cross in this lifetime. Maybe I’d simply fall for a suitable female in the pack and she’d become Luna by proxy.”

“Maybe, maybe, maybe,” I mutter.

“The point is, Alina, that for eighteen years, everyone was in a very intense state of denial. Including me.”

I frown up at him. “But then you did meet your Mate.”

“I did.” He nods. “And then you ran away before anyone got the chance to really process what that meant.”

“You—”

“Because I rejected you, yes. That is my fault. That is the mistake that I have carried with me for the past decade.” Rowan sighs. “And after it became clear that you were gone and never coming back, people figured there was no point in worrying about what could have been. They moved on. Not out of hatred, but out of necessity.”

I huff in exasperation. “What is even the point of telling me this?”

“Because I want you to know that I never moved on,” he says. “I have never recovered from rejecting you, and I can’t imagine that I ever will. So when you tell me that we’ll never be a family, Alina,believe me when I say that the truth of that has ruined me more than I think you ever could.”

His words cause a fissure to form in my heart. I shouldn’t have sympathy for him, but it’s hard not to when he’s so obviously speaking from his heart.

“Thank you, I guess,” I whisper. “For being honest with me.”

Rowan nods. “I’d like to go with you in the morning when you pick up Noah, though.”

“Fine.”

He smiles tenderly. There is something that almost resembles affection in his eyes, as if my stubbornness is appealing to him.

When he lowers his head toward mine, I freeze. Rowan presses a chaste kiss to my cheek, then steps away.

“Goodnight.”

I remain standing there as he turns and lets himself out of the house. My ears prick as I listen to the crunch of his boots in the driveway, the rumble of his truck’s engine, and then the sound of him driving away.

Only when he’s long gone do I slowly sink onto the floor and start to breathe normally.

For the first time, I’m seeing something that I was never willing to accept before.

I don’t hate Rowan. I’m not angry at him—not anymore.

I’m angry at the world. I’m angry at fate. I’m angry at myself.

The rejection was a moment of panic. That’s what he said. It wasn’t done with definite intention. It was a gut reaction. A fear response.