Chapter 56: Watching Back
Morning settled over the apartment complex in the most irritatingly normal way possible.
Rowan stood in her kitchen trying to ignore the fact that supernatural observers were still watching her apartment. She stared through the partially opened blinds toward the parking lot below, tracking every unfamiliar vehicle that slowed near the building. Nothing obvious stood out.
That somehow made it worse.
“You’re going to wear a hole through the window.”
Rowan glanced over her shoulder toward Corvin.
“You say that like paranoia isn’t reasonable anymore.”
“It’s understandable,” he corrected. “Not useful.”
“Wow. Very inspirational. You should put that on a mug.”
Corvin stood near the living room entrance with the same calm posture he always seemed to carry effortlessly. Black shirt. Sleeves rolled once at the forearms. Completely composed while her nervous system was actively trying to fight somebody. Again. The frustrating part was how much steadier she felt whenever he was near her now. The bond settled low beneath her awareness constantly, no longer sharp or invasive. She could sense him without trying. Not his exact thoughts, but his focus. His attention. The subtle shifts in mood he probably assumed nobody noticed. It made the apartment feel less empty. Which was dangerous information emotionally.
Rowan grabbed the bottle of water sitting beside the sink and took a long drink before speaking again.
“So what exactly are they waiting for?”
“They’re evaluating the situation.”
“That sounds suspiciously corporate for immortal supernatural stalkers.”
Corvin’s expression shifted faintly.
“They’re organized.”
“That is somehow less comforting.”
She leaned against the counter, still watching the parking lot through the blinds.
“Do they know I can feel them now?”
“Yes.”
“And that doesn’t concern you?”
“It concerns me that you’re adapting this quickly.”
Rowan looked back at him fully then.
“There’s that sentence again.”
“It’s still accurate.”
She studied him for a second before shaking her head.
“You know, most people would probably try harder not to sound ominous all the time.”
“I’ve never claimed to be reassuring.”
“That might be the most honest thing you’ve said to me this week.”
The corner of his mouth moved slightly. There it was again. That almost-smile he pretended wasn’t happening.
Rowan narrowed her eyes immediately.
“You’re getting easier to read.”
“No.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m not.”
“That was defensive.”
Corvin remained silent.
Rowan pointed at him triumphantly.
“See? That silence right there means I’m right.”
To her surprise, his expression actually softened slightly instead of shutting down again.
“I’m adapting,” he admitted.
The answer caught her off guard hard enough that she forgot what she planned to say next.
“Oh,” she said after a second. “That’s… weirdly self aware.”
“You asked for honesty.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t expect results this fast.”
A quieter silence settled after that, though this one felt easier than the others had weeks ago. Before, every pause between them carried tension and uncertainty. Now it felt more balanced, like neither of them were constantly waiting for the other to pull away. That realization stayed with Rowan longer than she expected. Because she wasn’t waiting anymore either. Corvin’s attention shifted suddenly toward the apartment door. The change hit Rowan a second later through the bond. Pressure, faint, but deliberate.
She straightened immediately.
“They moved.”
“Yes.”
Her pulse picked up automatically, but the fear felt different now. Cleaner somehow. Less panic and more awareness. She hated that she was already learning the difference. The sensation lingered briefly at the edge of her instincts before pulling away again.
Like someone testing boundaries.
“They’re closer than before,” she said quietly.
“Yes.”
“And they know we noticed.”
Corvin walked toward the window, stopping just beside her without touching her directly.
“They wanted us to.”
Rowan frowned.
“That feels bad.”
“It means they’re escalating carefully.”
She stared down toward the parking lot again, searching faces and parked cars.
“Why careful?”
“Because they still don’t fully understand what you are.”
That pulled her attention away from the window instantly.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Corvin’s gaze stayed outside.
“The bond should not be progressing this quickly.”
“That sentence continues to ruin my day every time you say it.”
“It’s still true.”
Rowan folded her arms tightly.
“So what exactly are they expecting me to become? Because everybody keeps acting like I’m about to unlock a second phase.”
Corvin finally looked at her directly.
“They expected instability. Fear. Dependency.”
“And instead?”
His gaze held hers steadily enough to send warmth low through her chest before she could stop the reaction.
“You chose awareness,” he said. “And you chose it willingly.”
The words landed harder than she wanted them to. Because he wasn’t talking about the bond anymore. He was talking about him.
Rowan looked away first, irritated by how obvious that suddenly felt.
“This whole situation is emotionally exhausting.”
“I’m aware.”
“No, I don’t think you are. I think you process emotions like a tax accountant.”
“That comparison feels unnecessarily hostile.”
She blinked once before laughing unexpectedly.
“Oh my God. Was that sarcasm?”
“No.”
“That was absolutely sarcasm.”
A faint warmth brushed through the bond again, calmer this time.
Corvin stepped slightly closer beside her, attention shifting back outside.
“There.”
Rowan followed his line of sight immediately. A black sedan sat near the far edge of the parking lot. Dark windows. Engine running. The driver remained mostly hidden behind the windshield glare, but Rowan felt the attention settle against her awareness almost instantly. Her body reacted before her mind fully caught up.
Corvin noticed that too.
“They expected fear,” he said quietly.
“Well, they picked the wrong woman for that.”
The answer came out sharper than she intended, but she meant it. Something about the last twenty four hours had changed her. Maybe accepting the bond. Maybe finally stopping the constant internal fight against everything happening around her. The sedan remained parked for another few seconds. Then the driver’s door opened. A man stepped out slowly, dressed plainly enough that Rowan probably would not have noticed him before all of this started. Average height. Dark jacket. Forgettable face. Except now she could feel the wrongness beneath the appearance immediately. The man looked directly at her across the parking lot. And Rowan looked back. No hesitation. Something shifted in his expression almost instantly. Recognition. Not of who she was. Of what she had become connected to. Corvin moved just slightly closer beside her. The movement was subtle enough that most people would never notice it. The watcher did. His gaze flicked briefly toward Corvin before returning to Rowan again. Then, without another move toward the building, he got back into the sedan. The vehicle pulled away from the curb moments later.
Rowan watched it disappear down the street before finally exhaling slowly.
“Well,” she muttered, “that feels significant.”
“Yes.”
She glanced sideways toward Corvin.
“That wasn’t random observation, was it?”
“No.”
The certainty in his voice settled heavily in her stomach. Because suddenly the situation felt much clearer. The Council had not been waiting to see if Rowan survived the bond. They had been waiting to see whether she would resist it. Instead, they had just watched her stand beside Corvin willingly. And somehow, that outcome worried them more.