Chapter 50 Rowan’s Grand Gesture
Malia's POV
The late afternoon text pops up unexpectedly, and it’s brief:
Rowan: Can you come to the greenhouse? 7 PM. Please.
I grip my phone, my heart already racing.
And we really haven’t spoken since that morning—since he came into Aiden and me, since he set down the moonflower and left without saying a word.
The guilt's been eating me up ever since.
Me: Okay, I'll be there.
His response is immediate:
Rowan: Thank you.
—-----
It's 6:55 and I'm standing outside the greenhouse, nervous energy making my hands tremble.
I’m wearing one of the new sweaters Aiden bought me—soft cream cashmere that probably cost more than my old winter coat—and the moonstone bracelet gleams on my wrist.
I'm pretty sure I'm dressed in Aiden right now as I head to meet Rowan.
The guilt intensifies. I breathe in, push open the door to the greenhouse and then stop.
It’s transformed.
Hundreds of fairy lights stretch across the ceiling, creating a starlit canopy. There are candles on every surface — tables, floors, windowsills — the light of them bathes everything in warm golden hues. The dying moonflowers have been replaced with new blooms, their pale petals glowing in the candlelight.
And at the heart of it all is Rowan.
He’s dressed in dark jeans and a soft grey sweater, hands buried in his pockets, anxious in a way I never thought I’d see him.
"Rowan," I breathe. "This is beautiful."
A look of relief flashes across his face. "You came. I wasn't sure you would."
"Obviously I came."
He moves a tentative step toward me. "I wanted to... I needed to..." He stops, running a hand through his hair. "I don't do well with this. Not like Aiden. He’s just supposed to know what to say. How to take. How to own. But me?" He laughs softly. "I just know how to hope."
My throat closes tight.
He goes on, each word deliberate and earnest. "I wanted to remind you why we do what we do. Why we’re good together. Before Aiden, before everything got complicated. Do you remember?"
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"Our first conversation in the greenhouse. You were upset about failing the shift trial, and I told you about my own failure. "You looked at me as if I were being honest and not weak." His hazel eyes hold mine. "Nobody Ever looked at me like that before."
"Rowan—"
"Let me finish. Please." He takes another step closer. "When I’m with you I don’t have to be the middle Moonfall. The spare. The ‘not quite as commanding as Aiden’ or the ‘not quite as mysterious as Cian.’ I’m just Rowan. And that’s enough."
I blink back tears. "You've always been enough."
"Then why did you pick him?"
A painful silence passes between us.
"I didn't... I mean..." I hold back the words. "It's a complicated bond. What I feel for Aiden, what I feel for you—it’s not the same, but it’s both real. Both essential."
For a full moment he is silent.
Then soft music starts playing a guitar acoustic melody, gentle and romantic. I look around, puzzled, and then my eyes fall on his phone that is leaning against one of the tables.
"Dance with me," he says, extending his hand. “Like we did at the Lunar Gathering. Before the ground broke beneath us.”
I reach for his hand.
He pulls me in, one hand on my waist, the other holding mine and we begin to move back and forth.
We’re not doing anything specific. we’re just kind of flowing, and slowly, his warmth is melding into me.
“I’ve missed this,” he murmurs against my hair. “Missed you. Missed the version of us that was before I saw you in his bed.”
I wince. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt your feelings."
"I know." His arms tighten around me. "That's what makes it worse. You’re not cruel. You’re not playing games. You’re just caught in something neither of us understands.”
We twirl silently for a moment, beneath fairy lights and moonflowers and the ghost of what we might already have been.
“You smell like him,” Rowan says softly. "His clothes, his scent. Even the jewelry, that’s from him, isn’t it? "
I nod, shame flooding my cheeks.
“But underneath it all,” he continues, “I can still see your scent. Still feel the bond pulling me toward you. I still want it so badly it hurts.”
"Rowan..."
He pulls back just enough to see me as he pauses in dancing.
He says simply, “I love you. I know I shouldn't. I know you're with Aiden. I know the bond is complicated and messy and probably impossible. But I love you, Malia. And I needed you to know that."
I swallow hard.
He continues, “I love you.” He cups my face with both hands. “The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous. The way you stand up for people weaker than yourself even when it costs you. The way you find good in everybody, even in Aiden when he was being mean.”
So many tears fall that they run down my cheeks.
“I love your strength,” he continues, thumb wiping my tears. “Your kindness. Your absurdly stubborn need to prove you should be here when you've been here since you first stepped through the gates of Mooncrest."
“Stop,” I whisper. “Please stop.”
"Why?"
"You're making this impossible."
"Good." His smile is sad. "Because it seems equally impossible to give up on you."
Then he kisses me. It's different from Aiden's kisses.
Where Aiden claims and possess, Rowan asks and treasures: he doesn’t need to say thank you, but he certainly says please.
His lips move against mine with gentle reverence, as though I am something precious he might break.
One hand was cradling the back of my head under my hair, the other was on top of my head.
The other one is at the small of my back, keeping me close enough without making it feel like I’m being held captive.
The kiss deepens gradually, sweetly, with all of the things he hasn’t said yet.
I taste salt, my tears or his, I don’t know which.
We're both breathing hard by the time we pull apart.
"I'm not giving up," he whispers, forehead against mine. “I can’t. Not even if you go with Aiden. Even if you never go with me. I can’t stop loving you.”
"What if I can't pick?" I say urgently. “What if the bond won’t let me?”
"Then we'll figure it out." His hands cup my face, making me look at him. "Together. Well, all of us. Because none of us can walk away from you."
"The school—"
"Let them talk."
I try again. “Aiden—”
“Is my brother. We'll get through this.” His tone is resolute, confident. “But I will not lose you without a fight, Malia. I won't.”
He kisses me again—urgent, like he’s trying to imprint the taste of me in his mind. I don’t stop to think, my hands rising to cup his face, fingers tangling in his hair.
The bond ripples between us and demands recognition, demands attention. We break apart.
"Come back to me," he whispers. "Not instead of Aiden. Not as a choice. Just… don’t lock me out. Can I be part of your life, you can do whatever you want to do with my life”
“I never wanted to shut you out."
"Then don't." One more soft kiss presses to my forehead. “Let me love you. Even if you can’t love me back like that. Even if it’s confusing and messy and breaks all the rules. Let me love you."
Fresh tear rolls down my cheeks.
But how do I tell him as I already do love him?
That watching him walk away that morning broke my heart?
That the bond anchors me to him as much as it does me to Aiden?
"I don’t know how to do this," I tell him.
"So do I." He pulls me close again, and we just hold each other. But we’ll figure it out. Day after day."
We remain like that forquite some time, entwined with one another, lit by candlelight, music playing softly in the background.
Eventually, he pulls back.
“I should get you back before Aiden sends out a search party."
The name Aiden brings reality crashing back in.
Here I am, in a greenhouse stuffed with romantic gestures, having just kissed Rowan, and wearing clothes Aiden bought me. I am standing in a greenhouse full of romantic gestures, just kissed Rowan while wearing clothes Aiden bought me.
"He’s going to kill you." I say.
"Probably." Rowan smiles—sad but genuine. "But you're worth it."
With that, I don't pull away even knowing Aiden will smell Rowan on me, even knowing this complicates everything.
Because Cian was right. Maybe I don't have to choose, maybe the bond wants all of them.
And maybe that's okay.