Chapter 27 Rowan's Date
Malia's POV
I'm halfway through highlighting notes and my phone buzzes.
Rowan: Hey. Random question: Are you free this afternoon?
I look at my schedule—nothing pressing, just some reading that I could do later.
Me: Yeah, why?
Rowan: Want to get some coffee? Off campus? There’s a great place in town I can take you to.
My heart does a weird little flip.
Coffee. Off campus. Just the two of us.
That sounds like… a date? But maybe I'm reading too far into things.
Me: Sure. What time?
Rowan: I can be there in twenty minutes?
Me: Perfect.
I look at my phone for a second and then I start to rush.
July walks in as I'm changing out of my usual hoodie and jeans for something a little nicer.
"Where are you going?" she asks and then she looks at the clothes I've put on. "Wait, are you getting all dressed up?"
"I'm just... Rowan invited me for coffee."
Her eyes light up. "ROWAN ASKED YOU ON A DATE?!"
"It’s not a date. "He just said coffee."
"Off campus coffee is definitely a date." She grins. "Oh my god, this is happening. You're going on a date with Rowan Moonfall."
"You're making too big a deal out of this—"
"Am I though?" She pulls out lip gloss from her bag. "Here. Trust me."
Twenty minutes later, I'm standing outside my dorm building when Rowan pulls up in a shiny black car.
He opens my door for me—because of course he does—and smiles when he looks at me.
“You look nice,” he says.
"Thank you. You do too."
And he does. Dark jeans, a soft graу sweater, slightly scrambled hair. Casual, but he’s not too casual, for no apparent reason that might be one of those Moonfall idioms for being “put-together yet effortlessly disheveled.”
The ride to town is pleasant. Rowan puts on music—indie folk that’s surprisingly mellow as we talk about classes, assignments due, anything but the heavy stuff it feels like we’re both carrying.
It feels normal.
Easy.
Like when we were just two students snatching an afternoon off the campus. Not a hybrid, an alpha heir.
There’s just Malia and Rowan.
—------
Nestled away on a peaceful street, serving drinks and home-baked treats, the café is small and cosy with mismatched chairs and tables and artwork by local artists adorn the walls.
Nothing like the pristine, high-end establishments around Mooncrest. This place has character. Warmth.
“How did you find this?” I ask as we sink into a corner booth.
“I get away from it all here from time to time,” Rowan admits. “When campus is just crushing I can’t take it. The owner is human—he doesn’t know about wolves, he doesn’t care about pack politics. It’s... refreshing."
A waitress arrives—older lady with a roguish look in her eye who obviously is familiar with Rowan.
"The usual?" she asks him.
“Please. And whatever she wants.”
I order a latte and the waitress turns around with a knowing smile.
“So you have a regular here?” I tease.
Rowan grins. "More than I probably should. But it’s worth it. This is the only thing that keeps me sane."
Our drinks come quickly–he’s some complicated iced coffee thing, I’m holding a perfect latte with foam art.
“So,” Rowan says, folding his hands around his cup. “How are you? Really?”
“Overwhelmed,” I say. “Between classes, the threats, the investigation, living with Aiden’s mood swings—”
“He’s not easy to live with,” Rowan says sympathetically. “Trust me, I know.”
“You three grew up together, right?"
"Yeah. Shared everything—room, toys, tutors, expectations." He stares into his coffee. "Sometimes I think that’s why we're so different. We had to find ways to be individuals when everyone saw us as a unit."
"The Moonfall triplets."
"Exactly. Not Aiden, Rowan, and Cian. Only… the triplets. The heirs. The future.”
There’s something heavy in his voice.
“That must be hard,” I say quietly.
"It is. Especially being the middle one.” He looks up at me. “Aiden’s the eldest by eight minutes, so he gets the heir position. All the pressure, all the responsibility. Cian's the youngest, so he gets to be... himself. Quiet, artistic, mysterious.”
"And you?”
“I've got the spare." He says it matter of fact without any trace of bitterness, just a simple fact: “The backup plan if something happens to Aiden. Not important enough to be first, not free enough to be last. Just... in between."
My chest aches for him.
"I don’t think you’re just a spare," I tell him. "You’re the most kind hearted person I’ve ever met at Mooncrest. That matters."
“Does it?” He smiles sadly. “Kindness doesn’t claim borders. Nor fight pack challenges. Nor gain alliances.”
“Maybe not. But it helps people to survive in impossible places.” I reach across the table and take his hand. “It kept me alive.”
His eyes lock with mine—warm and grateful, but there’s something more beneath the surface.
“You’re surviving more than you realize,” he says softly. “Most people would've broken by now. But you're still here. Still fighting.”
“Barely.”
“Barely is still fighting.” He flips his hand palm-side up, weaving his fingers with mine. “And what it's worth, I'm glad you're here. Even though it’s all complicated and dangerous and probably going to get worse.”
“That’s a depressing sales pitch.”
He laughs—real and bright. “What I mean is… you make this place better. make me better. Make me remember why I wanted to come here in the first place.”
"Why did you want to come here?”
“The same reason as you, presumably. To prove I could. To find my place.” He pauses. “To be more than my family name implies.”
We talk for hours.
Everything about our childhoods, our dreams, our fears. Rowan tells me about the pressure of pack council meetings, where every word is parsed. Where revealing weakness was tantamount to losing respect.
I tell him about my stepmother’s house, where being hybrid meant being invisible. Where you survive by making yourself small.
“Both of us are pretending,” Rowan finally says. “Wearing masks to meet expectations.”
"What would you do if you weren't pretending?"
He thinks about this. “Travel. See the world outside pack territories. Maybe study art history or philosophy. Something useless and beautiful."
"That isn’t useless."
"It does, to my father." He shrugs. “But that’s for future Rowan to deal with. Present Rowan is sitting having coffee with a girl that doesn’t treat him like a chess piece.”
My cheeks warm. "Is that what I am? A girl you're having coffee with?"
"You're so much more than that." He lowers his voice in a more serious tone. “You’re... important. To me. More than I probably should admit.”
My heart hammers. "Rowan—"
“I know it’s not simple. With Aiden, and the investigation, and everything else. But I need you to know...” He squeezes my hand. "I care about you. A lot. And not just because you need protecting."
"Then why?"
“Because you look at me. You really look at me Not the Moonfall heir or the spare or the “nice” brother. Just… Rowan.” He smiles softly. “That’s rare. And precious. And I don’t want to lose it.”
I don't know what to say.
Because I feel the same way. Rowan makes me feel seen, safe, valued. Like I am more than just the total of my failings.
—---
The drive back to campus is unnecessarily slow.
Neither of us wishing for the afternoon to be over.
Rowan's hand finds mine again as we parked to walk, and this time I don't question it.
I just let myself enjoy the small warmth of connection.
“Thank you,” I say as we approach the entrance to our campus gates. “For today. For pulling me away from all of it.”
“Anytime. Literally.” Still on the move, he halts, swivels around to face me. “Malia, I—”
He stops, appearing to be battling with something within himself. Then he moves closer.
Close enough for me to smell his warm, reassuring scent like summer rain, ever so comforting.
His hand rises to cup my cheek, and his thumb grazes my skin softly.
“Can I—“ he begins.
My heart jumps. “Yes,”
He leans in gradually, as if to give me the opportunity to back out.
But I refuse. I want this.
His lips are just two inches away from mine when he stops.
Pulls back.
Step away with an apologetic smile .
"I'm sorry," he says softly. “I want to. God, I want to. But I don’t want to rush this. Don’t want to screw it up by going too fast.”
My heart pounds, disappointment and sympathetic rage battling in my chest.
“You’re not messing anything up,” I say, barely able to get the words out.
“Not yet. But I could.” He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear. “You’re too important to rush. This — whatever this is we have — needs to be done right.”
My chest hurts at the softness in his tone.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay?”
“Okay. We're gonna take it slow.”
He smiles. “Thank you.”
We are back on our feet, walking once again, the near-kiss between us like a promise.
But when we reach the campus gates the spell is broken.
Because Aiden was there.
Leaning against the stone arch, arms folded, her expression like thunder.
His blue eyes are focused on our hands, joined together.
Then travel to Rowan's face.
Then to mine.
And the rage in his eyes is tangible.
"Where have you been?" His voice belies his placidity.
"Town," Rowan says easily. "Took Malia for coffee."
"Without telling anybody."
"We’re not little pups, Aiden. We don’t need permission—"
“You do, when there are threats against her. When students are disappearing. When—” He breaks off, jaw clenched so tightly I can see the muscle bouncing.
Rowan says, his usual gentleness edged with steel. “She was perfectly safe.”
“Were you watching the shadows? Checking for followers? Making sure no one—”
“Yes,” Rowan interrupts. “To all of that. I’m not irresponsible with people I care about.”
The stress on “care about” isn’t lost on her.
Aiden's eyes narrow. “We need to talk. Alone.”
“If this is about Malia—”
“It concerns boundaries. And decisions that affect all of us.” At last his gaze shifts to me. “Go back to your dorm. Lock the door. Security arrangements will be discussed later.”
It’s a dismissal.
Clear and commanding. Part of me wants to argue, to insist that I be included in whatever it is they’re about to discuss.
But that part of me—the exhausted, overwhelmed part—just wants to run from the tension sparking between them.
“Thank you for today,” I say to Rowan.
He squeezes my hand once more. "Text me once you're inside?"
I nod and walk away, feeling the two brothers staring at the back of my head.
But just before I'm out of hearing range, I hear Aiden's voice, low and threatening:
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
And Rowan's rather palpable response:
"The same as you. Just more honest," he said.
I don’t hear the rest.
But my wolf whimpers uneasily.
Because whatever is cooking between the Moonfall brothers I am square in the middle of it.
And I have no idea how to deal with three wolves who all swear they care about me.
By three completely different means. For three completely different reasons.
None of which they’re willing to fully explain.