Chapter 67 Rowan's Small Efforts
Malia's POV
I am exhausted when I get out of my Pack Dynamics exam, feeling like my brain has been squeezed dry. The questions were tough—multi-faceted situations that demanded an advanced knowledge of the hierarchy and relations between the packs. I feel like I did fine, but honestly, at this point I'm too tired to even care.
Then I look and there is Rowan standing outside the exam hall.
He's resting against the wall with his hands in his pockets, looking unfairly handsome in a dark green henley that makes the gold flecks in his eye stand out. When he sees me coming out of the mass of the students, his whole face lights up with that radiant smile that constantly makes my stomach do flips.
"Hey," he says, pushing away from the wall as he comes toward me. "How'd it go?"
"I think my brain might have melted," I say, and before I can say no, he’s already grabbing my heavy bag off my shoulder and swinging it over his own as if it weighs nothing.
"That bad?"
"He’s a sadist, the Professor is. I’m convinced." I'm lifting my shoulders, happy to be rid of the load. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have an exam?”
"I did this morning." He starts walking, and I fall in behind him naturally. "Advanced Combat Strategy. It was fine. Anyway I thought you may want some company after yours."
"You didn't have to wait for me," I say, but I’m smiling.
"I wanted to." He looks down at me, his expression softening. "Besides, I barely got a glimpse of you this whole week. Every night you've been studying your face off with Aiden."
His voice held no accusation or jealousy. It’s just a plain fact, but what I can sense through the bond is that it’s bothering him more than he’s letting on.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I didn't mean to—"
"Don't apologize." He nudges my shoulder lightly with his. "I get it. Studying together obviously makes sense, especially for the classes you take together. I’m not mad, Malia. I just miss you."
His words are so raw that my throat constricts. "I miss you too."
His smile returns, bright and genuine. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Because I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten who I was." He’s teasing now, his tone light. "Thought I might have to break out the big guns. What if I sing at your window or something."
I laugh, the sound surprises her. "Please don't. I'm pretty sure that would get you kicked out of the suite."
"Worth it though," he insists, grinning. Rowan is watching me with pure delight in his eyes, obviously proud of himself for making me laugh this much.
"There she is," he says softly. "I was worried exams had killed your sense of humor."
"They nearly did." I wipe my eyes, still smiling.
"But perhaps you are the antidote for that?"
“I’m flattered.” He motions toward the library. “Come on. Let’s go find a place where we can get some peace and quiet. You’ve got that history exam tomorrow, right? We can study together.”
“Don’t you have to study too?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.” He opens the door of the library for me. “It’s all about ensuring you get through midterms today. I can worry about my own stuff later.”
We go to a quiet corner on the third floor of the library, away from the chaos of group sessions and panicking students. Rowan claims a table by the window, and I take my place across from him, pulling out my notes and textbooks.
“Okay,” he says. “What are you asking for help with?”
“There’s just so much information. Treaties and alliances and feuds that go back centuries. I can't keep it all straight.”
“Then let’s divide it.” He skimmed the pages with an expert. “What’s the exam on? What are the big topics?”
I check my study guide, I rattle off the big cannabis growing issues: territorial disputes, the Treaty of Silver Creek, the Bond Wars, modern pack allies.
“The Bond Wars,” Rowan says thoughtfully. “That's always a big one for Martinez. Let's start there.”
For the next hour, he patiently and clearly explains the convoluted past to me. He doesn’t just spit out facts — he tells stories, he makes connections, he helps me understand the why behind the treaties and conflicts.
It’s like he’s translating a foreign language into something I can really understand.
“You’re really good at this,” I say to him on a quick break. "Teaching, that is. Ever considered it?"
He seems pleasantly surprised by the compliment. “Not really. I always assumed I was going to do the alpha heir thing—take over pack responsibilities, deal with territory disputes, the usual.”
“You’d make a great teacher, though. You make it all make sense.”
There is a faint blush warming his cheeks and I’m surprised by how unlike Aiden he is. Where Aiden is commanding and intense, Rowan is warm and accessible. They are both alphas, both utterly powerful, but they wear it so differently.
“Thanks,” he says softly. “That means a lot, actually.”
We go back at it with our studies, and for once, this knowledge actually sticks. Rowan Quiz me on dates and provisions, gently telling me when I'm wrong, enthusiastically telling me when I'm right.
“What about you?” I say finally,“I notice you haven’t cracked open any books of your own.Don’t you need to study?”
“I'm fine,” he says waving me away. “Already covered everything I have to know.”
“Rowan—”
“I can take care of it, honestly.” Taking my hand across the table, his thumb runs over my knuckles. “Don’t worry. Let me do this for you?”
I hold my breath, afraid that if I breathe, those warm brown eyes will melt away…