Chapter 4 4

Rowan barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, her mind conjured images of Malachi's men breaking down her door, claws and fangs bared. Dominic's words replayed over and over, his deep voice dripping with certainty: "You're in danger."

By the time the first light of dawn crept through her window, she was exhausted but resolute. She would not let Dominic-or Malachi, for that matter-control her choices. If Malachi wanted her as a pawn in his war, he'd have to come for her himself. And if Dominic thought she'd fall into his arms just because of some stupid bond, he was sorely mistaken.

But the gnawing truth remained: she couldn't stay in Ashridge. Her presence endangered not only herself but the humans who lived here. If Dominic had found her so easily, Malachi wouldn't be far behind.

She gathered her meager belongings-a few changes of clothes, a small pouch of herbs she'd collected for emergencies, and a dagger she kept hidden beneath her mattress. The blade gleamed in the morning light, a reassuring weight in her hand.

As she tucked it into her belt, a knock sounded at the door.

Rowan froze. It was too early for Claire to stop by, and no one else knew she lived here. Her pulse quickened as the knock came again, firmer this time.

"Rowan, it's me."

Dominic.

She let out a frustrated sigh and opened the door, glaring up at him. "What do you want now?"

He stood there, as composed and infuriating as ever, dressed in a black leather jacket that seemed to absorb the sunlight. His amber eyes swept over her, lingering on the dagger at her hip.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked, his tone laced with mock amusement.

"Not that it's any of your business," Rowan snapped, "but yes. I am."

Dominic leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "And where do you plan to go? Do you even have a plan, or are you just running blind?"

"I can take care of myself," she said, her voice sharp.

His lips twitched, as though he was fighting a smirk. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that. But stubbornness won't keep you alive, Rowan. Not when Malachi's men are already closing in."

Her fingers tightened around the doorframe. "I don't need your help. Or your protection."

Dominic's expression darkened, the playful edge in his tone vanishing. "You're not just putting yourself in danger. If Malachi finds you, he'll use you against me. Do you understand what that means?"

"I don't care about your war, Dominic," she shot back. "I didn't ask to be a part of it."

"Neither did I," he said quietly, the words carrying a weight that surprised her. "But here we are."

For a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Rowan searched his face for any hint of deception, but all she saw was raw, unyielding determination.

"I won't go with you," she said finally, her voice softer but no less resolute.

Dominic exhaled sharply, as if he'd expected as much. "Fine. Have it your way. But I'm not leaving you unprotected."

Before she could protest, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, intricately carved pendant. It gleamed silver in the light, shaped like a crescent moon entwined with vines.

"What's that?" she asked warily.

"A ward," he said, holding it out to her. "It'll mask your scent and keep Malachi's trackers off your trail."

Rowan hesitated, eyeing the pendant like it might bite her. "Why would you give me this?"

"Because," Dominic said, his voice low and steady, "whether you like it or not, you're mine. And I don't let what's mine get hurt."

Her cheeks flushed, anger and something else warring within her. She wanted to throw the pendant back in his face, to tell him exactly where he could shove his possessiveness. But she couldn't deny the practicality of it.

Reluctantly, she snatched it from his hand. "This doesn't mean I owe you anything."

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. "Of course not."

Rowan glared at him, then stepped back and shut the door firmly in his face.

Hours later, Rowan stood at the edge of the forest, the pendant tucked beneath her shirt. She'd made her decision: she couldn't stay in Ashridge, but she wouldn't run blindly either. There was only one place she could go where Malachi wouldn't dare follow-if she had the nerve to face it.

The old territories. The lands abandoned after the last great war, shrouded in myths and whispers of ancient wolves who'd refused to bow to any Alpha. It was dangerous, but it was her best chance.

As she adjusted the strap of her pack, she felt the faint pull of the bond, a tug low in her chest that made her pause.

Dominic.

She shook her head, banishing the thought. She would prove to him-and to herself-that she didn't need him. Not his protection, not his wards, and certainly not his claim on her.

With one last glance at the town she'd called home, Rowan turned and disappeared into the trees, the dense forest swallowing her whole.

What she didn't see was the figure lurking in the shadows, watching her every move.

"Found you," the figure murmured, a wicked smile spreading across his lips.

Malachi's men were closer than Dominic had feared.