Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Rowan stood at the edge of Clara’s porch, his arms crossed, eyes locked on the tree line.

The night was quiet now, too quiet. But his wolf was restless beneath his skin, pacing, ears pricked for danger. He could still smell the faint traces of the one who had dared to follow her earlier—rogue, hungry, unpredictable. Not a direct challenge, not yet, but close enough to rattle him.

Close enough to rattle her.

He clenched his jaw, remembering the flash of fear in her eyes when she’d turned and seen him after the fight. Not the fear of him—thank the moon—but of the shadows at her back. Still, it had been enough to twist a knife in his chest.

The wolf inside him growled, low and dangerous. She’s ours. Keep her safe.

Rowan exhaled hard, tilting his head back toward the sky. He couldn’t let himself think like that. Clara was human. She had no idea what world brushed so close to hers, no idea of the bloodlines and loyalties that ruled his life. Dropping that truth on her would do nothing but shatter her trust.

And yet… she’d opened the door to him tonight. Her voice had cracked when she said his name, and the part of him that had spent years closing himself off from anything more than pack duty had almost unraveled right there.

He shifted his stance, scanning the shadows again. He could feel the pull of her inside the house—fragile, warm, the steady beat of her heart tempting him closer. Every instinct screamed to go to her, to make sure she slept soundly, to lay his claim so no threat would dare come near.

But Rowan stayed rooted where he was, fingers curling into fists. He was alpha. He couldn’t afford recklessness, not with his wolf straining at the leash, not with rogues testing his borders. Protecting her meant restraint as much as action.

Still, when the wind shifted, carrying her scent—coffee and something softer, uniquely Clara—he swore his control nearly cracked.

The wolf rumbled deep in his chest. Go to her.

Rowan ground his teeth. “Not yet.”

The night stretched on. Hours passed, and the forest held its breath, but Rowan didn’t move from his post. Every sound, every shift of the leaves, he was ready. His gaze flicked once toward the window, and he caught the faintest glimpse of movement—her silhouette behind the curtain, pausing like she was checking for him.

His heart eased. She’d seen him. She knew he was there.

And that was enough—for now.