Chapter Nine: The Clearing Between Us
The forest was quiet beneath the canopy of twilight, the last golden rays of sun filtering through the trees and lighting the moss-covered floor with a soft, flickering glow. Each step Rowan took was measured and silent, his breath steady but heart racing.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out here, only that he needed to be. That familiar pull in his chest—the one that had kept him returning to the same spot day after day—had only grown stronger.
‘She’ll come,’ he told himself, again. ‘She has to.’ But the longer he stood out there without her showing up, the harder it was for him to keep hope alive.
The only thing that kept him going was the fact that she had to be feeling the same pull towards him as he was for her. Mates are supposed to be together, and their wolves would stop at nothing to make sure that they did.
‘She can’t stay away from us forever,’ his wolf says to him in a strained voice. If Rowan was feeling the distance from his mate, his wolf would feel it ten times worse. It is through them that the bond lives and breathes.
His wolf suddenly went still in his mind, his pacing coming to a complete stop. ‘She’s close,’ his wolf’s voice echoed in his head, edged with anticipation. ‘I can feel her.’
Rowan froze mid-step, breath catching as a twig snapped softly to the left. His gaze shifted toward the dense line of trees. Her scent—wild, warm, and mouthwatering—hit him like a wave. His pulse surged.
Then, she appeared.
The silvery wolf stepped cautiously into the clearing, her eyes locking onto him instantly. Her lithe frame was tense, muscles coiled as if ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
“You again,” Rowan whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I knew you'd come back.”
Sweat glistened on his bare chest, the last light of day glinting off the sharp lines of his muscles as he stepped forward slowly. Hands raised in surrender to show he meant no harm.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I could never hurt you.” His wolf grunts softly in agreement, urging him to run to her and take her in their arms. But her body doesn't relax as she continues to stare at him from the edge of the clearing.
Her ears flicked back, suspicious and alert. Rowan could see the fear in her stance—and the confusion. She was fighting the bond.
He understood why she was hesitant, he could smell the scent of rogue on her with every shift of her fur, but what she didn’t seem to understand was that he didn’t care. He had waited a long time to find her and there was nothing that could make him walk away, not even her rogue status.
‘She’s ours,’ his wolf growled in frustration, pacing inside his mind. ‘She’s right there—take her!’
Rowan ignored the surge of possessiveness clawing at him. He nervously took a few steps in her direction, terrified that one misstep would have her running away again. “You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked softly. “This pull between us—it’s real.” He had to figure out a way to ease her fears and convince her to take a chance on him.
He watched closely as her ears flattened on her head in response, and could hear her heart thundering in her chest. He knew why she would fear him, but he didn't know how to make her believe that her status didn't matter to him.
Fear rushes through him when she takes a step backward, an unhappy growl leaving her as she shakes her head at something. “You don’t have to run,” he said again, almost pleading now. “Just stay... for a minute.”
She hesitated, her paws shifting beneath her. Her eyes, pale and intelligent, never left his face. Then, with a breath of tension easing from her shoulders, she sat down on the forest floor.
Relief exploded in his chest. Rowan dropped to his knees in turn, keeping a respectful distance between them.
For hours, they sat like that. Rowan spoke, and she listened. He told her about the pack he led, about the dense forest he called home, the people he was sworn to protect. He told her about his sister, Charlie, and the two mates that had saved her life. He spoke about the disease that nearly wiped them out—and the cure they now delivered to others.
“I’ve seen what love between fated mates looks like,” he said quietly, staring into the space between them. “I want that. With you.” She hadn’t moved, not even flinched, but her eyes had softened.
The sun had disappeared completely now, casting them into the cool blue of early night. When Rowan finally stood, brushing dirt from his pants, she tensed again.
He held up his hands, heart thundering. “I’m not leaving. I just... want to show you my home. It’s not far. Just come with me. Please.”
Her eyes flashed—regret? fear?—before she shook her head.
“Don’t go,” he pleaded, voice cracking with raw hope.
But she did.
She turned and bolted into the woods, silver fur flashing between trees.
Rowan took a step to follow but tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to her. Breathless, Rowan stared at the trees where she vanished. “What the hell is going on? Why does she keep running from us?”
‘She’s ours,’ his wolf growled again. ‘And I don’t care if I have to tear down mountains to get her back.’
Rowan lay there for a moment, chest heaving. Finally, he stood and brushed himself off. As he trudged back to the packhouse, his wolf muttered darkly the entire way.
‘We should’ve followed. We should’ve shifted and chased her down. We’re wasting time.’
“She was scared,” Rowan said aloud, jaw clenched. “We have to go slow. We don’t know what she’s running from.”
‘We know what we’re running out of,’ his wolf snapped. ‘Time.’
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