Page 51 of These Shattered Memories

Epilogue: Rowan

FIVE MONTHS LATER

T he soft beat of rhythmic rap music threads through the dimly lit bar, wrapping around the steady murmur of conversations.

Serene Tiger is unrecognizable from the dusty ruin it once was.

Alex and Halle have turned it into something extraordinary—a space where polished wood meets sleek leather, golden light fixtures cast warm, inviting glows, and the air carries the subtle scents of cedar, tobacco, and expensive craft whiskey.

At the bar, Alex works with practiced ease, sliding a drink across to a customer with one hand while taking an order with the other. Tina, one of the bartenders, hums along to the music as she mixes a cocktail. Her smooth voice will take the stage in an hour, but for now, she’s all business.

“Hey, Sugar,” she greets me warmly with a wink.

I’m not one to blush, but something about being called ‘ Sugar’ by her makes me all warm inside. “Hey Tina,” I call.

Alex glances up and spots me as I take a seat at the bar. A grin breaks across his face, one of those smiles that makes my chest feel lighter no matter the day I’ve had.

“Hey,” he says, leaning on the marble counter. “What are you doing here?”

I tilt my head, feigning offence. “Not happy to see me?”

His grin widens as he leans in to kiss me, his lips soft and familiar. “Always. I just didn’t expect you. I was hoping to surprise you at home later.”

“Oh?”

He straightens, the glint of mischief in his eyes unmistakable. “I had a plan. Can’t tell you now, though.”

Before I can press him, his gaze shifts past my shoulder. “Ah. I see.”

I turn to find Xander and Hayden entering the bar.

As always, their presence pulls in attention.

A pair of women having drinks, openly stare, whispering to each other.

Hayden, as usual, looks polished and composed in perfectly tailored clothes, while Xander wears his leather jacket and his messy hair like he gets paid to look like every bad guy from every movie ever made.

Alex leans close, pouting. “You’re not here for me.”

“I was,” I tease. “But they insisted on meeting here instead of The Serpentine.”

He hums, sceptical. “Fine. But you owe me later.”

I wink and leave the bar, weaving through the tables to where my brothers have claimed a corner booth.

The past few months have been exhausting, to say the least. After our father’s failed coup, I had his operations quickly dismantled.

The warehouse where he’d been producing Haze was the first to go—every ounce of product destroyed, every scrap of Hawthorne’s research incinerated.

Haze was an unstable drug and whilst most drugs are just as dangerous, the last thing I needed was something else to agitate the clans and Senna.

Our father, however, remains confined to his private cell beneath The Serpentine. I don’t know what state he’s in, neither do I want to know. He could be severely maimed by now and I wouldn’t care. To me, Jonathan Vasilyev is dead.

“Ro,” Xander says as I slide into the booth. He pulls out a cigarette, only to sigh and put it back when he spots my raised eyebrow. Alex and Halle have a strict no-smoking policy here and I’d rather not face Halle’s wrath today.

“Alex has you perfectly house-trained, I see,” Hayden says, smirking.

“Oh, he’s totally whipped. It’s disgusting,” Xander says.

“Careful, or I’ll let him kick you both out,” I reply.

A waitress appears, setting down three glasses of whiskey. Likely Alex’s doing. We murmur our thanks, and she hurries off, cheeks flushed.

Xander takes a sip, then leans back in his seat. “There’s something you both need to know,” he says.

I straighten, my fingers tightening slightly around my glass. “What is it?”

“Whispers from across the river,” he replies. “Moreau smells blood in the water. Word is, he’s gearing up for something big. Expanding territory. Maybe crossing into ours.”

The air around us stills.

“The Scarlet Ravens don’t have the manpower for a war,” Hayden says, his tone measured but tense.

“They don’t need it,” Xander counters. “The treaty’s worthless after Trist and Mum. And he sees us as vulnerable.”

I take a slow sip of whiskey, letting the burn settle in my chest, allowing Xander’s words to process. “How reliable are these whispers?”

“Reliable enough,” he says with a shrug. “And if Moreau’s planning something, he won’t be doing it alone. He’ll have allies.”

Hayden’s jaw tightens. “Allies here?”

“It’s possible,” Xander replies.

I set my glass down with a quiet clink. The truth is, I’ve been expecting this. My mother’s death left cracks in The Snake’s foundation, and while I’ve spent every moment since The Choosing filling them, some doubts remain. My father’s loyalists are gone, but I’m sure I haven’t reached all of them.

“If he has allies in our territory,” Hayden begins, his voice low, “We need to root them out.”

“And we will,” I say. “We’ve done it before. We’ll do it again.”

The table falls silent for a moment, the weight of what’s to come pressing down on us. Then Xander leans back, smiling dangerously. “Guess I better get to work.”

“Try not to turn Senna into a bloodbath,” Hayden mutters, looking at Xander the same way our mother would once upon a time.

Xander only grins. “No promises.”

Across the room, Alex glances my way. When our eyes meet, he smiles—a simple gesture, but it manages to settle the uneasiness building inside me.

The Serene Tiger buzzes around us, alive with life and possibility. The road ahead will be difficult, but nothing about it is daunting. I have my brothers. I have Alex.

And I will make sure The Snake stays on top.

Right where we belong.