Chapter 233

ROWAN

I got myself a plate and found a seat by the corner–keeping to myself a little. That way, at that angle, only Aurora and Dane himself were clearly visible at the head of this hall. Aurora laughed at something he had said – the play of her light hand upon his arm. Suddenly my fingers struck the edge of my plate, my appetite vanished.

“Rowan, aren’t you having anything to eat?” The voice cut finally to me.

It was Leila, a young wolf with bright eyes and an endless supply of energy. She plopped down beside me, her plate piled high.

“I’m not that hungry,” I muttered, shifting the food around on my fork.

“You should eat,” she said matter-of-factly. “Big day ahead.”

I nodded absently, my gaze drifting back to Aurora. Leila followed my line of sight and tilted her head. “You really admire her, don’t you?”

Before I could utter a word, I heard Aurora’s low, serious tone across the room.

“Something’s not right about Rowan,” she said to Dane, her eyes flicking momentarily in my direction.

I turned away fast, my face burning.

The day’s work started off like it usually did, the pack going off their separate ways to whatever tasks needed doing. I was sent to help with the housing repairs – a menial task and an insult, if you ask me.

“Rowan, can you pass me that hammer?” he said finally, still barely turning towards me.

I clench my teeth, hand over the tool. “Why don’t you let me do something relevant?”

The foreman blinked. “We all have a job to do, Rowan. And this is the task at the moment.”

“I can handle much more than that,” I cut back with a higher, sharper pitch.

He wasn’t given the time for a retort, because just then, Aurora walked toward us, interest on her face but calm around the edges.

“What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze darting between us.

“Nothing,” I said quickly, stepping back.

The foreman hesitated, then said, “Rowan’s eager to do more. That’s all.”

Aurora smiled at me, the kind of smile meant to soothe. “We appreciate your enthusiasm, Rowan. The pack needs everyone working together, no matter the role.”

Her words were but a pat on the head, an echo in my head, and I was beyond frustrated. “I don’t need a lecture,” I muttered, stalking away before saying something I couldn’t take back.

The training arena was abuzz with activity, Piper and Warrick at the center of it. Their sparring matches had become a source of entertainment for the pack – their playful banter drew in a small crowd.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Piper teased, dodging Warrick’s strike with ease.

“I’m just warming up,” Warrick shot back, grinning.

The watching wolves laughed, but I noticed Alina standing apart from the group. Her gaze lingered on Warrick, her smile coy.

Piper noticed too. When they took a break, Alina approached and handed Warrick a towel. “You’re really impressive out there,” she said – friendly, but flirtatious.

Warrick blinked, for a moment looking like he’d been punched. “Uh, thanks.”

Piper’s jaw clenched, and with a jerk, she moved forward, snatching the towel before Warrick could take it.

“He doesn’t need that,” she snapped.

Alina merely raised an eyebrow but said nothing, walking away with that aggravating calmness.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Warrick said, frowning.

“Oh, didn’t I?” Piper flashed back, frustration finally bursting through to the surface. “Do you like the attention or something?”

“What are you talking about?” Warrick said, really confused. “I barely notice her.”

“Sure,” Piper muttered, tossing the towel at him before storming away.

Warrick blew out a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his hair. “What just happened?”

Evening found me once again standing at the edge of the village, my mind once again turning to the same place. I heard footsteps, turned to find Alina approaching – her expression unreadable. “Rough day?” she asked, stopping a few feet from me. I didn’t respond, my frustration just too raw. She leaned her head then, her gaze piercing. “You’re wasting your potential, Rowan. Letting them overlook you.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” I asked – quietly enough.

She smiled then – a small, nearly predatory thing. “Sometimes, you have to remind people of your worth. Show them what they’re missing.”

Something inside me stirred, sparked with her words – a fusion of determination and anger.

The night started falling, and the village was in silence. I went through the shadows, my step getting heavier and heavier. Stopping before the house of Aurora, I peered through its window; some soft glow of lamplight spilled over me.

She and Dane were sitting cosily inside; their laughter rang with the warmth of that room. She had laid her hand on his; nothing seemed different, as their ease had always been as it was.

My fists clenched at my sides, Alina’s voice echoing in my mind: “You deserve to be seen.”

I stood there in the shadows, my chest tight, like the air itself was pressing in on me. Aurora’s laughter reached my ears again, soft and melodious. It was a sound that should have soothed me, but it only made the ache inside worse.

I shifted weight, the crunch of the boots soft against the ground. Everything in me screamed to turn away, leave this place, and bury emotions that clawed at me. But my legs wouldn’t move. I kept standing there, peering through this window as if some invisible force held me in place.

Inside, Dane had said something that again had Aurora laughing, her head thrown back, her eyes sparkling in delight. He reached for her hand, his touch light, yet full of meaning. The way she looked at him – like he was her whole world – was too much.

“Why not me?” I muttered under my breath, bitterness tainting my tone and even surprising me.

I clenched my fists, trying to push those thoughts away. This wasn’t who I wanted to be: the wolf in the shadows, full of envy and bitterness. But the more I told myself this, the more I could not let it go.

A twig snapping behind me whirled me back into life. I spun around, heart racing – eyes scanning in alarm – to find nothing but the soft swaying of treetops in the night breeze.

My breathing came out in shallow gasps while I tried to steady myself. I knew I was on the verge of losing control, and I did not know exactly how to contain myself. Her words still continued to ring within my head – taunting. You deserve to see, she said. At what cost?

I turned back to the window, making a silent promise in my heart as I did so: I was not going to be one of those shadows forever; somehow, someway, I would find a way to make them notice me.