Chapter 2 2

Rowan didn't move. Her feet felt rooted to the ground, as though Dominic's presence had left an invisible chain wrapped around her ankles. She stared at the spot where he had disappeared into the forest, her breathing uneven.

What had just happened? And how in the name of the moon did he know her name?

The forest had gone silent, the usual rustle of leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures swallowed by an oppressive stillness. It was as though the forest itself had held its breath while the Alpha King stood within it, and now, in his absence, it dared to exhale.

Rowan clenched her fists, willing the trembling in her hands to stop. He'd saved her-fine. But that didn't mean she owed him anything, no matter what he thought.

The pull she felt toward him, though-that was something else entirely. It wasn't just his aura, as overwhelming as it was. It was the bond. The cursed bond.

Rowan growled low in her throat and turned on her heel, pushing herself back into the woods. She couldn't afford to dwell on it. She had bigger problems to deal with-like finding somewhere safe to hide before the rogues regrouped.

The moon was high overhead as she made her way deeper into the forest, sticking to the shadows. Her legs ached, and every muscle in her body begged her to stop, but she forced herself onward. She wouldn't let Dominic Blackthorn be the last person she saw before sunrise.

The next morning, the town of Ashridge was bustling as humans went about their daily routines. Market stalls lined the cobblestone streets, vendors shouting over one another to advertise fresh produce, handwoven fabrics, and trinkets.

Rowan blended in easily, her hood pulled low over her face as she slipped through the crowd. No one paid her any mind. To them, she was just another young woman from the outskirts of town. They didn't know she was a wolf.

She made her way to the small apothecary where she worked, ducking through the door and letting out a soft sigh of relief as the familiar scents of dried herbs and oils greeted her. The shop was quiet, as it always was this early in the day.

"Late night?"

Rowan startled, spinning to see Claire, the apothecary's owner, watching her from behind the counter. Claire was human, but she had always been kind to Rowan, even if she suspected there was more to her young assistant than met the eye.

"You could say that," Rowan muttered, pulling her hood back. Her hair, wild and auburn, tumbled down around her shoulders.

Claire raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, I've got a shipment of valerian root that needs sorting. Think you can handle it?"

"Of course." Rowan forced a smile and moved to the back room, grateful for the distraction.

She worked in silence, her hands methodically sorting the dried herbs into labeled jars. But no matter how hard she tried to focus, her mind kept drifting back to the clearing. To Dominic.

The way he had looked at her, like he was trying to unravel every secret she had ever kept. The way his voice had wrapped around her, low and commanding, making her feel both furious and... something else.

She shook her head sharply. "Focus," she muttered to herself.

But her reprieve didn't last long.

The bell above the apothecary door jingled, and Rowan froze at the sound of heavy boots against the wooden floor. Her heart sank as the unmistakable scent of pine and smoke filled the air.

Dominic.

She stayed hidden in the back room, her breath shallow as she pressed herself against the wall. Maybe if she stayed quiet, he would leave.

"Rowan."

Her name rolled off his tongue like a command, sending a shiver down her spine.

Claire's voice floated in from the front. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I'm here for her," Dominic replied smoothly.

Rowan bit her lip to keep from cursing. Of course he wouldn't leave. He was the Alpha King. He always got what he wanted.

"Rowan," he called again, his tone sharper this time.

She sighed, knowing she couldn't avoid him forever. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the front room, her expression carefully blank.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice cold.

Dominic turned to face her, his amber eyes narrowing slightly. "We need to talk."

"I don't have anything to say to you."

"Then you can listen."

Claire glanced between them, clearly sensing the tension. "Should I... leave you two alone?"

"Yes," Dominic said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Rowan shot Claire an apologetic look as the older woman quickly gathered her things and slipped out the door.

The moment they were alone, Rowan crossed her arms over her chest. "You can't just barge in here and-"

"I warned you," Dominic interrupted, his voice low and even. "You can't run forever, Rowan."

Her jaw clenched. "I'm not running. I'm surviving."

"Is that what you call it? Hiding in a human town, pretending to be something you're not?"

His words hit a nerve, and she bristled. "What do you want from me?"

Dominic took a step closer, his presence filling the small space. "You're mine," he said simply.

The bond flared between them, a pulse of heat that left Rowan breathless. She hated it. Hated that he could affect her so deeply with just a few words.

"I'm not yours," she said through gritted teeth.

Dominic tilted his head, studying her. "Not yet."

Her stomach twisted, a mix of anger and something she didn't want to name.

"Get out," she snapped.

To her surprise, he smirked. "I'll leave. For now. But this isn't over, Rowan. Not by a long shot."

And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving her shaking with a mixture of fury and fear-and something she couldn't quite explain.