ROWAN
“Tomorrow, I go to see Rowan in his cell,”
The soft jingling of keys fitted into a lock cut through the oppressive silence of my cell.
I sat on my cot, my elbows to my knees, and my gaze down. I wasn’t so certain after all I wanted to have this talk with Alina.
The door creaked open, and she came inside, her eyes icy cool, calculating. “Rowan,” she said smoothly, leaning against the cold stone.
“Why are you here?” My voice had gone low, quavering with a mix of betrayal and anger.
The bitterness in my chest was to be well and fully brought out now. “You framed me again, you wicked soul! What do you get to owe me this, and why? Why are you this way?”
She fell into mockery, an arc of a smile that resembled anything less than decent. noveldrama
“Framed you? That is rather dramatic.
I stood, and the sudden movement served to stiffen her.
“Dramatic? You turned the whole pack on me! You used me to twist me into a pawn for whatever game you’re playing.
Alina folded her arms across her chest and gave a cold,
unemotional tone to Rowan:
“Don’t play the innocent, Rowan. You were so desperate to be noticed, so willing to matter that you didn’t even see what was right in front of you. You let me manipulate you because it was easier than facing the truth about yourself.”
Her words hurt a great deal more than I wanted to admit, but I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.
“You lied to me,” I spat, fists clenched to my sides. “You made. me believe that I did what was right.”
She came closer, tone razor sharp. “I gave you what you wanted, purpose, power. That you couldn’t take the consequences is something to blame yourself for, not me.
Purpose?” I barked a crazy laugh. “You call this purpose? Rotting in prison while the pack treats me as if I carry the plague?”
Alina shrugged, and in that was more of a knife twist than in her words. “You made your decisions, Rowan. I just helped shepherd you along.
The only sound in the room for a moment was my ragged breathing. Finally, I shook my head, disgust twisting in my gut. “Get out,” I said, my voice harsh. “You’ve done enough damage.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned and walked out, her heels clicking against the stone floor. “Good luck, Rowan,” she said over her shoulder. “You’ll need it.
It sounded loud with a clang of its heavy self, and left me to my silent gloom once again.
Next morning, Aurora came into my cell looking disappointed and, well, hopeful.
She sat opposite me on the bench, placing her hands neatly in her lap. “Rowan,” she said to begin with, firm but softly. “I need you to tell me the truth. All of it.”
I looked at her, my throat tightening. “I didn’t start that fire,” I said immediately. “I swear to you, Aurora. I’ve done a lot of things I regret, but that wasn’t one of them.”
She held my gaze, searching for any sign of deceit. “And the other things? The secrets, the manipulation, did you regret those?
And heavy, as in, it felt with her question coming into me. “I do,” I whispered. “I had my anger, my jealousy, that had blurred everything. And bad, oh, so badly wanting to matter and wanting to be seen, it was never the one who might hurt.
Her expression softened, and she leaned forward slightly.
“Then prove it,” she said. “Prove to the pack that you’ve changed. Show them the Rowan who wants to be better, not the
one who let himself be used.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat almost choking me.
“How?”
Aurora stood proud, pride in every inch of her posture.
“By taking responsibility for your actions and promising to try harder.” Her hand landed on the bars as she met my eyes. “The pack should hear it from your mouth.
The sun was already low in the sky when they came for me to take me out of my cell. As we neared the gathering, my heart pounded. The whole pack had gathered, their whispers loud in
my ears.
“That’s Rowan?” one voice murmured.
“Why would Aurora and Dane even give him a chance after everything?” another said with a tone of disgust.
Some of them pitied me, while the rest treated me with outright disgust. I kept my eyes with Aurora and Dane, tall in front, but the weight of all these gazes pressed on me.
Loud murmurs filled my ears as I climbed up the platform: “He does not belong here,” sliced a voice, cutting like a razor blade.
Aurora lifted a hand, and the crowd fell silent. Her voice was firm, unruffled, yet commanding. “Rowan has come to address the pack. He has something to say, and I expect you to listen.”
I drew a deep, shaking breath and clenched my trembling hands at my sides. The pack was quiet now, the faces turned to mine. and seemed to stare through me. I looked at Aurora and was awarded a small encouraging nod.
I turned to the crowd and started,
“I know I have made mistakes. I let my insecurities and my need to prove myself blind me. I hurt this pack in ways I couldn’t take back, and for that, I am deeply sorry.”
The murmurs started again, until Aurora’s sharp look quieted them.
“I didn’t start the fire,” I continued, my voice a little firmer now. “But that doesn’t cut me free of the pain I’ve caused. I’m prepared to take responsibility for my actions and to work for the trust back if you’re willing to give it to me.” The room fell silent again, tension so thick you could have cut it with a knife.
Behind him came Alina’s voice, smooth as honey and edged with mockery. “Words are just words, Rowan. Let’s see if actions can back them up.”
Her gaze met mine, a sly smile playing on her lips. My stomach twisted, but I refused to look away.