Chapter 128 Evidence and Echoes
Rowan's POV
The rage drives me across campus with one purpose.
Lydia's dorm, the gleaming, immaculate building all of the legacy kids live in. Where a college fund and family name gets you the best rooms, the best views, the kind of privilege that makes you feel like you’re untouchable.
I vault up two stairs at a time, my camera bouncing against my chest from the hospital. My brain spinning through options. Confrontation. Exposure. To make her pay for what she's done.
But on the third floor landing, I slow down at the sound of voices.
Female. Male. Coming from the corridor in front of us.
I could tell immediately it was Lydia’s voice—that perfectly modulated tone she uses, sweet and manipulative by turns.
The male voice takes a second longer. Professor Harrison. Junior lecturer in Supernatural Ethics. Thirtysomething, ambitious, absolutely not allowed in the female dorms after hours.
I press up against the wall, keeping out of sight. Listen.
“—We can’t keep doing this,” Harrison is saying, voice tight with nerves. "Somebody's going to see them. Somebody's going to figure it out."
“We’re not all gonna figure anything out if you just calm down.” Lydia’s tone was soothing. Experienced. "We've been careful."
“Careful?” His voice rises slightly before falling back to a harsh whisper. “Lydia, this is my career. If someone gets wind—”
“They won’t. I'm handling it."
Silence. Then Harrison speaks again, more quietly.“You said you were feeling sick?”
“Since the field trip.” A pause. I calculated, I knew. She's working up to some kind of thing. “I took a test this morning.”
“And?”
" I’m pregnant.”
The words fall like stones. Heavy. Damning.
Harrison’s response is immediate panic. “You’re — what? How — when —”
“About two weeks. Which means it happened—” She lets him fill in the blank.
“Oh god.” Movement. Probably pacing. “Lydia, you have to —we have to—“
“Do something about it?” Her voice acquires a note of irony. “Is that what you were going to say? That I should get rid of it?”
“I didn’t —” He begins to struggle. “Your parents. Your family. If they learn you’re pregnant, if they learn it’s mine—”
“They’ll kill me.” Flat. Certain. “My dad will disown me. My mother will never forgive me. Everything I’ve worked for, everything my family expects out the window.”
“So what do we do?”
“We don’t do anything for now.” The sweetness is now completely gone, replaced by a cold calculation. “I take care of this. You be quiet. And when this is over we never talk about it.”
"Lydia—"
“I’m telling you, Harrison. Don't tell a soul. To anyone. Got it?”
A long pause. Then, weakly: “Understood.”
“Good. Now leave. Through the back stairs.” And do not come back here!”
Footsteps. Quickly retreating.
I remain pressed to the wall, my mind racing.
That’s it. That's what I needed. It wasn't the confrontation I planned. Far better. Infinitely more useful.
My phone is already in my hand before I even think about it. Recording app is already open from audioing at the preserve. I change it to voice, press record, and get closer.
Get the tail end of their conversation. Harrison, uneasy, nods in assent. Lydia's instructions were icy.
Then I go to camera. Snappy, quiet cut to Harrison making his exit via the servant's stairs. His face is visible. Identifiable. Time-stamped by my phone.
Proof that he was in the female housing dorms after hours. Proof of an inappropriate relationship with a student. Proof of pregnancy and a conspiracy to cover it up.
Lydia's door clangs shut.
I am in the hall with my phone, my recording saved and backed up to cloud storage instantly.
This is a game-changer.
I don't need to make a stand against her. No need to get mad or threaten or stoop down to her level, either.
I have leverage, now. Solid, measurable, career-destroying leverage. Both of them, yes.
Fury now condensed into cold pleasure, I pocket my phone and head back toward the hospital.
—-
It was dusk by the time I get to the infirmary. The corridors are quiet – visitors hours are drawing to an end. As I reach Malia's door, my hand on the handle, voices inside stop me in my tracks.
Cian's voice. And Malia's. Quietly talking.
July and Freddy must have left.
I should go in. I should tell them I'm back.
But something about the way Cian says it makes me stop. Private. Important.
I stay outside. Listen.
"Sorry," says Cian. “For everything. The video of us kissing. The way it was used against you. I should have been more cautious. Should have known they'd weaponize it."
"It's not your fault." Malia's voice is weary, but genuine. "I kissed you back. That was my decision. The ramifications—they’ re on us both."
"Still. I hate that I started all of this."
A pause. Then Malia – softer again. " I'm sorry I pushed you away. When you tried to help. I was so focused on protecting my scholarship, on not causing more problems, that I shut everyone out. Including you."
"You were drowning. You did what you thought you had to do to survive."
"And almost tore everything up in the process.” Her voice catches a little. “Including myself.”
"Hey," movement. Cian probably moving closer. “You’re still here. Still fighting. That counts for something.”
"Does it? Because it feels like — like I keep fighting and losing. Over and over."
"The bond doesn’t work that way.” Cian's voice is firm. Certain. “You, me, Rowan, Aiden — we’re connected. It doesn’t just disappear when things get hard. We protect each other. Always.”
"Even when one of us attacks another with claws?" A note of bitterness creeps into Malia's voice.
"Even then." No hesitation. “Aiden knows it wasn’t your fault. Knows you weren’t in control. He doesn’t blame you.”
"He should. I hurt him. Badly.”
“And he’s been asking after you nonstop ever since you got admitted.” Cian’s voice is tinged with a smile. “Driving the hospital staff nuts looking for news. He wants to see you. When you are strong enough.”
“He—isn’t Malia surprised you can’t talk to him about anything right now? “He wants to see me? After everything? After I—”
“After you were hurt and then lost your mind after being a wolf who never should have been made to do that? Yes, Malia. He wants to see you. Want to make sure you’re okay.”
Silence. Processing.
I lean against the door frame and smile despite it all. This is good. This is Cian doing what he does best—finding common ground, providing context, showing Malia she’s not nearly as alone as she suspects.
A phone buzzes inside the room.
"What is it?" Cian asks.
Malia hesitates. "Email. From campus administration."
"About?"
"I'm—" Her voice wavers. "I'm being called to report to Principal Ashford’s office. As soon as I'm discharged."
The smile dies on my face. I know what that means. We all know what that means.
The video. The incident at the preserve. The proof of Malia ‘attacking’ Aiden that is now plastered on every social media outlet.
Her scholarship is on the line — and was already tenuous just seeing as she's on academic probation.
One more incident and she's done. That's what Ashford said. Well this certainly counts as an incident.
Fuck.
Inside, Cian’s voice is cautious. “What does the email say exactly?”
"Just the administration needs to talk about what happened at Silverwood Preserve. That there are real concerns for the safety of the campus. I need to see Principal Ashford and—” She stops. "And a disciplinary committee."
A disciplinary committee. That's worse than just Ashford. That means going to court. Potential expulsion.
"When?" Cian asks.
"As soon as I can get out of here for medical reasons. Probably in two days."
Two days. That is all the time we have.
My head is against the door, my mind running through possibilities.
The recording of Lydia and Harrison. It's leverage. But is it enough? Can I use it to get her to take down the video, to say that she provoked the situation?
Maybe. But that doesn't undo what happened. Won't change the fact that Malia attacked Aiden, even if it was beyond her control.
Information about the Mooncrest bloodline? If we tell them what Malia could be, would that help? Or would it make things worse?
Vesper already knows something. Those men in suits are already on them. Revealing Malia’s potential lineage, could be a way for them to advance whatever plans they have for her.
No good options. Just varying degrees of bad.
"We’ll work it out,” Cian says. “You’re not going to have to deal with this on your own. Rowan and I, we’ll figure out a way.”
“How?” says a dispirited Malia. "The video is all over the place. Everybody saw what I did. How do you defend that?”
"By telling the truth. About the preserve's magic. About the forced transformation. Of Lydia intentionally bringing you into off-limits territory.”
"You expect they'll buy that when there’s video evidence?”
“I think—” Cian hesitates. “We have, I think, two days to make the strongest defense we can. And we’re not throwing in the towel without a fight.”
I push off the door. Pocket my phone with its damning recording of Lydia and Harrison.
Two days.
Two days to save Malia's scholarship. Her future. Her home. Her place here.Two days to figure out how to do that without blowing everything up in the process. Two days, then, to decide whether revealing Lydia's secrets is worth the damage to her and to the rest of us.
The door opens before I can knock. Cian stands there, unsurprised to see me.
“You heard?” he asks quietly.
"Yeah."
He goes out into the hallway, shutting the door slightly behind him. "What do we do?"
I get my phone out. Show him the recording. The photos. See his expression change from confusion to understanding to icy satisfaction.
“Is this—”
“Lydia and Professor Harrison.’‘ They’re having an affair. She’s pregnant. They’re planning to cover it up.”
Cian stares at the evidence. “This is—”
“Career-ending. For both of them. If it gets out.”
“So we have leverage.”
“We’ve got a nuclear option. "I pocket the phone. "Question is whether we use it. And how."
Cian looks back toward Malia's room. Toward the girl sleeping inside, who doesn’t know that she’s the reason a battle is about to be waged for her future? Silently, he says, “Two days.”
“Two days,” I said.
“We’ll just have to fight then.”
“Yeah.” I look at him. “Whatever it takes.”
Because Malia is not just our friend. Not just our bonded. She is what might be called a Mooncrest heir. A legacy of power and history as far back as that the very founding of this institution.
And we’re not going to let them destroy her reputation without a fight. No matter what it takes.
No matter who we have to kill to keep her safe, and this time we’re not playing nice.