Chapter 120 On the Trail
Rowan's POV
At the end of Wednesday’s Werewolf Mythology class, Professor Helthkins announces it her usual calm voice tinged with a rare excitement for her.
“As part of our unit on the history of our territory and our sacred spaces, the department is holding a field trip.” She’s scrolling through a map on the projector. “This Saturday we will be touring the Silverwood Preserve—one of the region’s longest running protected werewolf habitats. It is a unique occasion to observe ancient marking stones and den sites, and other artifacts of history."
Excited whispers ripple through the classroom. Trips to the field, not lectures in halls and libraries, are what you don’t normally get at Mooncrest.
That you're really going somewhere, looking at something beyond the boundaries of campus, that snaps you out of the academic routine.
“To all students currently registered in the course, attendance is compulsory,” Helthkins says. “We will meet at the main parking lot at 8 a.m. on Saturday. Dress for hiking. Bring some snacks and water. You can’t do much in the way of camping here.”
More whispers. Students already plotting what to wear, whom to sit with on the bus, how best to spend a day outside the exertions and anxieties of campus.
I look around the room, making note of who is in this class.
Malia sits three rows in front of me, as usual, alone, taking notes mechanically. She’s lost weight in the last week —– I can see it in the way her sweater hangs looser, in the angles of her cheekbones. She doesn’t flutter at the news. Just keep writing.
July is two rows behind her, already texting someone—probably Freddy—about the trip. relief is what her face registers. A chance to get Malia off campus, out from under the unending surveillance and whispers even if just for a day.
Aiden is on the other side of the room. Front row. He hasn't glanced at Malia at all during class. Hasn't looked at me either. Just stares straight ahead explains his jaw is tight and his whole vibe is that of “do not come close.”
And then, Lydia is two seats away from him. Close enough to lean over and whisper something during the announcement. He doesn’t answer but he doesn’t moves either.
Dinah sits behind them. Already eyes Malia with that calculating look they all have. This is going to be a disaster.
The thought pops into my mind fully developed, and I'm filled with certainty like solid rock in my stomach.
Too many volatile elements in one place. Too much past and pain and unresolved animosity. Add in a full day away from campus supervision, in the woods where instincts run stronger and control runs thinner.
Yeah. Disaster.
“Rowan,” Professor Heltkins’s voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. “You’ll be documenting the trip. Photos, notes on the historic sites. Think of it as extra credit for your final project.”
Great So I'll be the official photographer as it all falls apart.
"Sure," I shout my consent. "Happy to help."
There is more talk from the class at the end. The students leave talking about plans, rides, what to eat.
As students passes by I catch July's eye. She jerks her head toward the hallway — we need to talk.
I go out with her, but I keep enough distance so it doesn't look like we're moving in unison. I go out with her, but I keep enough distance so it doesn’t look too coordinated.
She's standing next to the water fountain, phone in hand. "Did you see—"
“Lydia and Dinah? Yeah.” I lean back on the wall as I watch students rushing through the doorway. “This is going to be a problem.”
“Understatement.” July pulls up her messages. "Freddy just texted. He's taking professor Helthkin’s course. So is Charlotte. It's basically everyone who has made Malia’s life hell, plus everyone who cares about her. In the woods. For an entire day."
“Recipe for disaster,” I say.
“We need a plan.” July's voice turns lower. "Ways to keep Malia separate from them. Make sure she's never isolated. Never vulnerable."
“You think they’d really try something? On a school trip?”
“I think Lydia sees opportunity where other people see barriers.” July's expression is grim. "And a field trip with minimal supervision, rough terrain, all sorts of places to stage 'accidents'—" She doesn't finish the thought.
“I’ll talk to Malia tonight,” July continues. “Make sure she knows to stay close to us. Not to wander off alone. To be careful.”
"She won't want protection. She will say that she is fine. "
"Then we protect her anyway ." July's voice carries steel. "If she likes it or not. If she is aware or not."
I nod. "I'll run it with Cian and—" I stop. "Actually, is Cian in this class?"
“No, he's not taking the course." July checks something on her phone. “It’s just you, me, Freddy, Malia, Aiden and regrettably the mean girls club.”
Perfect. So I'm the only brother who'll be there. The only one who can watch for whatever Lydia might be planning.
No pressure.
"Okay," I say "It's just you, me, Freddy. We ensure Malia is safe."
"And Aiden?"
I glance down the hallway. He's standing near the exit, Lydia at his elbow saying something that makes him smile slightly. It isn’t his real smile –I know the difference –but she doesn’t.
"I'll handle Aiden." The words come out more confident than I feel. "Try to keep him away from Malia. The last thing we need is another public showdown.”
“You think he’d really—”
“I don’t know what he’d do anymore.” Honest. Painful. "He's not in his right frame of mind right now. Or maybe this is him and I just never saw it before. Unpredictable, in any case–"
July follows my gaze. Watches Aiden laugh at something Lydia says. "He's going to regret this someday. Regret how he handled all of it."
“Probably.” I push off the wall. “But that’s for future Aiden to worry about. Focus on keeping Malia safe Saturday, that’s what we do.”
“Agreed.” July starts to walk away, then pauses. “Rowan? Thank you. For not giving up on her. I know she’s pushing everyone away but—” Her voice softens. “She needs people who will not let her push them all the way out.”
“Sure,” is all I say.
July gives a sad yet warm smile as she makes her way to her next class.
I lean against the wall in the emptying hallway. the uneasiness building stronger. Something’s going to happen saturday. I can sense it the way animals can sense the approach of earthquakes — some primal understanding that the ground is about to break up.
Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe I'm just being paranoid after weeks of watching Malia spiral and the bond shatter and conspiracies form in shadows.
Or maybe I’m right.
Maybe whatever has been building since the video dropped, since the kiss, since Vesper began her cold, calculated campaign of destruction — maybe it’s all coming to a boil.
In the woods. Away from campus. Unsupervised, unguarded, and with only a thin skin of civilization between people and their basest instincts.
I take out my phone. Text Cian.
Me: Field trip this Saturday. Silverwood Preserve. Malia will be there. So will Lydia and crew. Aiden too.
Cian: That sounds like a disaster just waiting to happen.
Me: Yeah. It's just that I am worried about Malia.
Cian: You want me to come? I could sit in on the course, say I have an academic interest.
I consider it. Extra backup would be good. But—
Me: No. Too many Moonfalls might make things more tense. Better if I'm solo. Less threatening.
Cian: Okay. But I'm a phone call away if things go sideways.
Me: Appreciated. How's the research going?
Cian: Slowly. Lots of dead ends. But I found some interesting stuff about bloodline manifestations. I'll show you tonight.
Me: Good. See you then.
I pocket my phone and head to my next class, mind already working through logistics for Saturday.
Stick close to Malia without being obvious. Keep Aiden occupied and away from her. Watch for Lydia's moves before she makes them. Document everything with my camera in case we need evidence later.
Simple plan. Probably won't survive contact with reality. But it's better than nothing.
Better than showing up blind to whatever's brewing.
The rest of the day passes in a blur of classes and planning. By evening, I'm back at the suite, spread out on my bed with Cian's research notes and my own observations.
There's a pattern I'm starting to see. Malia's power manifestations correlate with emotional extremes, the fight with Victoria, the confrontation with Lydia, moments of intense stress or pain.
Like something inside her is responding to external pressure. Growing stronger as the situation gets more desperate.
Which means Saturday—with all its potential for confrontation, isolation, and disaster—could trigger something significant.
The question is: will that something help her or hurt her?
And above all: is there someone counting on it happening?
It makes me think of Vesper’s talks with the suited men. About containment protocols and answers related to bloodlines. How she has been tracking Malia’s every move, every mistake, every sign of emotional instability.
What if the field trip is no incident?
What if they engineered it? Maybe take Malia to the brink in a place where they could watch? Where they could keep track of what happened and analyze it? To document and to study?
It makes me shudder just thinking about it.
But I can't prove it. Don’t act on conspiratorial paranoia.
All I can do is be prepared. Be vigilant. Be ready to intervene when -- not if, when -- it goes awry.
Saturday’s going to be a long day.
And I have a horrible feeling it’s going to get much longer before it ends. Something's coming.
I just hope we’re ready for it.