Chapter 52

Chapter 52
Rowan’s POV

Morning sunlight bled through the curtains in thin streaks, touching the edges of my desk. I had been awake since dawn, staring at unfinished reports without absorbing a single word. Between the Elders, the council pressure, and Lyla almost dying, my mind had been a battlefield with no quiet corners.

But today… I had made a decision.

Distance.

Control.

If Damon believed I was losing myself over Lyla, I would prove him wrong. If Dalia thought I was choosing someone else over her, I would show her she had nothing to fear. If the council doubted me, I would give them no reason to whisper behind my back.

The plan was simple.

Cold.
Firm.
Untouchable.

I rose from my chair the moment I sensed Dalia approaching. Her footsteps in the hall were soft and careful, almost nervous like she was unsure how to face me after the last few days.

The door opened, and she peeked her head in.

“Rowan? Can I… come in?”

I forced a smile; warm, relaxed, gentle. A smile I hadn’t given her in a long time.

“Of course.”

Her eyes widened slightly, as though she wasn’t expecting that reaction. When she entered, I walked toward her and placed a hand on her waist, guiding her gently inside. She stiffened in surprise.

“You look beautiful,” I said.

She blinked. “I— thank you. You haven’t said that in a while.”

“I should’ve said it more.”

Shock flickered across her face. She straightened a little, smoothing her dress with trembling fingers.

“Well… I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she murmured.

Better? I felt like someone had carved open my chest and been scraping around inside for days. But she didn’t need to know that.

“I am,” I lied smoothly. “And I want us to move past the tension we’ve had. I want things to be easier between us.”

Dalia looked confused, deeply confused but also pleased.

“That’s… wonderful, Rowan. Truly.”

She reached up and adjusted my collar, small gestures she hadn’t done since before Lyla entered the picture. My wolf didn’t react. It simply watched.

“You’re cold,” I said gently. “Let me get you something warm.”

Her cheeks flushed, clearly thrown off. I had never been this attentive. Not recently, anyway. Not since... 

A soft knock interrupted the moment.  Damon.

His voice filtered through the door. “We need to finalize the patrol schedule.”

Dalia’s smile faltered faintly.

“Come in,” I called.

Damon entered, and his eyes flickered instantly between Dalia's hand on my arm and the fake, easy smile I wore. His expression tightened, just for a moment, then he cleared his throat.

“Patrol reports,” he said, placing the papers on my desk.

“Good,” I replied calmly. “We’ll discuss them now.”

Damon nodded, but his eyes narrowed faintly. He knew me too well. He could sense something off, even if he didn’t know what it was yet.

“We’ll talk later,” I murmured to Dalia.

She lit up, smiling in a way she hadn’t in months. She kissed my lips before leaving, clearly thrilled.

The moment the door shut, the room felt colder.

Damon studied me. “You’re acting strange.”

“No,” I said lightly. “I’m acting normal.”

He didn’t believe that for a second.

But before he could question me further, the sound of soft laughter drifted in from outside the open balcony windows. A soft, bright laugh that I recognized instantly.

Lyla.

My body reacted before my mind did. My head turned slightly toward the sound, and Damon followed my gaze.

On the lawn below, she walked slowly, still weak but smiling. Ella walked beside her, holding a bag of pastries, and Lyla’s arm was linked with—

Damon’s breath caught.

Damon turned fully.

But the man walking beside her…

was Damon’s Gamma, Nick.

Nick had his hand on her back, steadying her. She laughed again, wiping a tear of amusement from her eye as he told her something.

Something inside me tightened sharply, not anger, not jealousy, just a pressure that made breathing feel harder.

Damon let out a low sigh. “She needed fresh air. Nick offered to walk with her.”

“I see,” I said calmly.

Damon looked at me again. “Rowan…”

“We have work,” I cut in. “Sit.”

My voice was steady. Unshaken.

Even though somewhere deep inside, my wolf pushed against my ribs, restless and annoyed.

Damon sat slowly.

We began discussing border rotations, but my mind was half outside, following the fading sound of Lyla’s laugh as she disappeared behind the greenhouse. I forced myself not to look again.

Distance.

This was what I wanted.

Control.

This was what I needed.

Damon was the one who loved her. He was the one who held her hand and slept beside her bedside chair. He was the one who carried her when she collapsed. He was the one she kissed and whispered things to.

I had no place there.

So I buried everything deeper.

I didn’t look out the window again.

The meeting with Damon dragged on, but not because the work was hefty. It was because he kept pausing, glancing between me and the window as if waiting for me to slip. I pretended not to notice.

My wolf, however, reacted to every shift in Damon’s scent; worry, suspicion, tension. He could tell something had changed, but he didn’t know the reason.

That made him restless.

“We need an extra pair of guards near the western ridge,” Damon said. “Tracks were found there this morning.”

“I already sent a patrol team,” I replied without looking up. “They’ll report back before sunset.”

Damon nodded slowly. “Good.”

Silence settled again.

Not comfortable. Not hostile. Just thick enough to feel unusual.

Then he finally asked, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Perfectly.”

He studied me, then spoke in a low voice, “Acting cold toward Lyla won’t make anything easier.”

My pen stopped mid-stroke.

“I’m not acting cold,” I said.

“You haven’t visited her in two days.”

“She has you.”

Damon inhaled lightly, then looked away, frustrated. “This isn’t about me.”

“It’s not about her either.”

He scoffed. “It’s exactly about her.”

I didn’t answer. Because he was right. And I hated that he was right.

Before he could say more, a soft knock sounded again, timid, cautious.

“Come in,” I said.

The door creaked open and Dalia’s mother stepped inside, her eyes hopeful.

“Rowan? Could you join us for lunch today? Dalia has been waiting to eat with you.”

“Of course,” I answered at once. “Tell her I’ll be there.”

Her mother smiled, delighted. When she left, Damon slid a look toward me.

“That’s new,” he said.

“I’m strengthening bonds,” I replied calmly. “That should make you happy. You’ve been accusing me of the opposite.”

Damon rubbed his forehead. “This feels off. Forced.”

Everything inside me pulsed once. Not angry. Not offended. Just tired.

“If you’re worried I’m interfering with you and Lyla,” I said quietly, “don’t be. I’m not.”

His shoulders eased,  just a little but confusion stayed in his eyes.

“I never needed you to step aside,” he murmured. “I only needed honesty.”

Honesty.

If he only knew how deep the truth ran.

The truth could tear half the pack apart.

Before either of us continued, patrol horns echoed in the distance. Short bursts. Not an emergency, just a signal for border rotation.

Damon stood. “I’ll go.”

I nodded.

He walked out, leaving me alone with a silence that finally felt like something I could breathe in. I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and tried to push away the image of Lyla’s smile from earlier.

It didn’t work.



Lunch with Dalia and her parents took place in the sunroom. The long table was covered in dishes, bright fruits, warm bread, sliced meat, and golden honey.

Her dress was soft pink. Her hair curled at the ends. She looked prepared, almost like she’d been waiting for this moment.

I pulled out her chair for her.

She nearly dropped her fork from shock.

“You’re in a good mood,” her father observed.

“Trying to be,” I replied.

Dalia stared at me as if she were studying a stranger.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked quietly.

“I’m more than okay,” I said, placing a hand over hers. “And I’m sorry for the trouble you’ve been through recently.”

Her eyes softened. “I never meant to cause fights.”

I didn’t respond to that. Not because I disagreed but because the truth was far heavier than this table needed.

“I want us to move forward,” I said instead.

She swallowed. “I… would like that too.”

Her mother nearly cried from joy.

Her father looked satisfied.

On the surface, everything appeared perfect.

But then I made the mistake of glancing out the glass wall of the sunroom.

Across the courtyard, Lyla was walking again. Slow steps. A blanket draped around her shoulders. She still looked weak, but she was finally moving on her own. Ella held a basket beside her, guiding her forward and talking with her.

And Lyla laughed; soft, tired, but real.

The sound carried through the glass and hit straight into my chest. My wolf stirred, restless again. My grip on Dalia's hand loosened slightly.

She noticed.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” I answered quickly.

I forced myself to focus entirely on her. I forced myself to eat. I forced myself to smile when her mother made a light joke.

But each time Lyla’s laugh drifted through the courtyard, my wolf reacted. He wasn’t violent. He wasn’t trying to break free. He just… paced. Like he was waiting for something. Like something felt out of place.

I ignored it. I forced myself to.

After lunch, I walked Dalia back to her chamber out of courtesy. She looked happier than I had seen her in a long time.

“Thank you,” she whispered as we reached her door. “For today.”

“Of course, love.”

She hesitated, then reached for my arm. “I know I’ve made mistakes.”

I remained silent.

“But… I’m trying, Rowan. I really am.”

“I know,” I said.

She lifted her eyes to mine. “Does this mean we are… good now?”

I didn’t want to answer that. But I nodded anyway.

Her shoulders relaxed. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Maybe.”

She smiled and slipped into her room.

As soon as the door closed, my wolf finally reacted properly, pacing harder, ears forward. Something pulled his attention, and I followed the faint sound down the hall.

Two voices.

Soft. Warm.

I reached the balcony overlooking the lower gardens.

It was Damon and Lyla this time.

He was holding her hand as she sat on the bench, leaning lightly on his shoulder. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, smiling.

She smiled back.

She touched his cheek.

He kissed her temple, slow and gentle, and she closed her eyes like it comforted her entirely.

My breath caught in my throat. Not loud. Not sharp. Just enough to hurt.

Damon looked peaceful with her. Natural.

And she looked at him with trust that felt too deep to watch.

I stepped back into the shadows.

Distance.

I reminded myself again.
And again. And again.

She belongs with him.

Not you.

Not ever.

I left the balcony before they noticed me.

I returned to my office, shutting the door quietly. The papers were still on my desk. Patrol maps. Elder complaints. Reports of outsiders near the borders. A list of wolves who wanted to transfer packs. A request from the healer team.

Everything demanded decisions.

But my mind fought every one of them.

I tried to bury myself in work.

Then the door opened again without knocking.

It was Damon.

He strode in, holding a blanket Lyla had left in the garden.

“She wanted me to return this,” he said simply.

I nodded. “Then return it.”

He didn’t leave.

Instead he waited. Watching me. Studying the way I avoided looking at the blanket.

“You saw us,” he finally said. Not a question.

“I stepped outside,” I replied calmly. “You two were there.”

“And you walked away fast.”

“I had things to do.”

He sighed deeply. “Rowan… this pretending isn’t helping you.”

“There’s nothing to pretend about.”

He shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Not lying.”

He crossed his arms. “Then why have you been avoiding her? And don’t say you’re busy. You barely slept when she was poisoned, yet now you can’t even look her in the eye.”

My wolf reacted again not with anger, but with a sharp sting of guilt.

“I’m not avoiding her,” I said quietly.

“You are.”

“I’m creating space.”

“For who?” Damon’s voice softened. “Her? Or you?”

I stiffened.

He stepped forward. “Lyla cares about you. Not in a romantic way, don’t twist this but she cares. She worries because you’ve shut her out.”

“She has you,” I repeated.

“That’s not the point.”

“It is.”

“No,” he said. “The point is, she thinks you hate her.”

That hit deeper than I expected. My wolf growled low inside me.

“I don’t hate her.”

“Then stop acting like she’s invisible.”

I inhaled slowly, grounding myself. “This isn’t about her. It’s about balance. Order. You two are… stable. The pack needs that. The Elders need that. And Dalia....”

Damon cut in sharply. “Does Dalia need kisses on the cheek now? Or long lunches? Or you pulling out her chair like you’ve never done before?”

I stayed quiet.

Because yes. Damon saw everything.

“Rowan,” he whispered. “This isn’t you.”

“Maybe it is,” I finally said.

Damon stared at me with something between frustration and sadness.

“You’re hurting yourself,” he said. “And you think no one sees it.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

I exhaled, feeling the exhaustion hit me fully.

“Go,” I said softly. “Please. I have work.”

He didn’t argue. He just turned and left. 

The office door shut behind Damon, leaving me alone again, but at least the room finally felt quieter. I tried to bury myself back into the papers on my desk, but everything blurred together.

My wolf kept pacing in my head, restless and uneasy. Not violent. Just conflicted.

Dalia is your future Luna. Lyla is just someone you saved. Someone safe. Someone under your care.

I repeated those lines until the words lost meaning.

By late afternoon, I gave up on work and stepped out of the office. The hallway felt colder than usual. The sky outside the windows was turning gold as the sun dropped lower.

I headed toward the courtyard, needing fresh air, or space, or anything that didn’t involve paperwork or thoughts.

Halfway down the stairs, I saw her.

She was seated on one of the stone benches. She still looked a bit pale but at least she was sitting up on her own. Ella sat beside her, talking about something that made Lyla smile softly.

The sight hit me harder than I expected.

Not the smile itself. But the quiet relief in her face, relief that she was healing, that she was safe.

It should have eased me.

Instead, it twisted something in my chest.

I forced myself to keep walking, pretending not to look their way, but Ella noticed me first and nudged Lyla lightly. Lyla turned, her eyes widening when she saw me crossing the courtyard.

She didn’t smile. She didn’t look away either.

She simply watched me, her expression unreadable.

I didn’t know what to do with that.

“Alpha Rowan,” she said softly when I drew close.

I stopped a few feet away, keeping what I believed was a respectable distance. “I came to check on the healer’s final report,” I said, keeping my tone even. “They said you are recovering well.”

“I am,” she replied. “Thank you.”

There was a small pause. The kind where a hundred words wanted to fill the silence, but none could be said.

Her eyes searched my face for something, but I kept everything locked behind a calm expression.

Ella, sensing the strange tension, stood. “I should go help Mom in the kitchen.” She gave Lyla a gentle tap on the shoulder before leaving.

Now it was just the two of us.

Lyla looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry for causing problems, Alpha.”

“You didn’t cause anything.”

“Still,” she whispered. “Everyone seems on edge because of me.”

“Let me worry about that,” I said. “Not you.”

Her eyes lifted again, softer this time. “You’ve been distant.”

My wolf stirred sharply at her honesty, but I didn’t flinch.

“I’ve been busy,” I replied.

She nodded slowly, even though she didn’t believe it. “I understand.”

That quiet acceptance hurt more than anything else she could have said.

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed behind me.

Dalia.

Her scent reached before she did; sweet, sharp, and familiar. She walked into the courtyard with her usual confidence, her dress flowing behind her, her posture straight and proud.

“Rowan,” she said brightly, looping her arm through mine without hesitation. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Lyla lowered her gaze at once, her shoulders drawing in. Dalia noticed it and her smile sharpened with satisfaction.

“We were supposed to go over seating arrangements for the celebration next month,” Dalia continued. “But you disappeared from the upper floors.”

“I needed some air,” I replied.

Dalia leaned closer. “Then you should have come to me. I would have given you company.”

Her tone was sweet, but her eyes flicked toward Lyla with cold amusement, as if she were reminding her of her place.

Lyla stood quietly, holding her blanket close. “I should head back inside,” she murmured.

“You should,” Dalia answered before I could speak.

Lyla hesitated only for a breath before turning away.

My wolf growled at the back of my mind, deep and disapproving.

Dalia squeezed my arm, drawing my attention back to her. “Ignore her,” she said lightly. “She’ll be fine. She always finds a way to attract sympathy.”

I stiffened, but forced myself to remain calm. “Dalia.”

She tilted her head innocently. “What? I’m only saying the truth.”

I didn’t want to argue. Not here. Not now.

But she wasn’t finished.

“Actually…” She took a deliberate breath, straightened her dress, and pressed closer to me with a soft smile. “There’s something important we need to address.”

Her voice carried just enough so Lyla,still within earshot... could hear it.

I didn’t like that.

“What is it?” I asked.

Dalia turned slightly so she was half facing Lyla, half facing me, her smile now sweet but victorious.

“It’s time we stop delaying,” she said. “You and I need to start preparing for our wedding.”

The words hit the courtyard like a strike.

Lyla froze mid-step.

I felt it before I even saw it her breath catching, her shoulders going stiff, her fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.

My wolf reacted instantly, pushing forward in a way that made my pulse flare.

Dalia smiled wider.

“Well?” she asked softly, but her voice carried far enough for Lyla to hear every word. “Shouldn’t we finally set a date, Rowan?”

I said nothing.

Couldn’t.

The air itself felt too tight.

Lyla didn’t turn around, she just resumed walking, slow and forced, until she rounded the corner out of sight.

Only then did Dalia look up at me with satisfied eyes.

“Let’s talk about our future,” she whispered.