Chapter 265

Sharp knocks yanked me from sleep. Beside me, Dane stirred, his hand instinctively going to the blade he kept near the bed. “Who’s there?” he called out, low but firm.

“It’s Trajan,” came the reply, his tone heavy. “We need to talk about Rowan.”

Dane threw his legs over the side of the bed with a languor. I did the same, belting a shawl around my shoulders. Something in Trajan’s voice was wrong.

We opened the door to find Trajan’s face scored with deep concern. “There’s something you should see,” he said, eyes darting from one of us to the other.

For months, police questioned anyone who would talk about Kirsten, but nobody had anything to say to them, and they basically searched the whole state.

Trajan led us into the Great Hall that cool, refreshing morning. A small gathering of wolves had assembled; their voices low as if in reverence to pieces of evidence strewn before them—a piece of burnt fabric caught beneath a bunch of logs leading toward the side of the central hall where their fire began.

“This was found early this morning,” Trajan said, his voice even but serious. “And there’s more.”

He held up a burned piece of paper. The edges were blackened, but the faint marks of Rowan’s handwriting were unmistakable. My stomach sank.

Dane frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “This doesn’t prove anything,” he said, sure. “It could’ve been planted.”

“Perhaps,” Trajan agreed, “but Rowan’s been acting strangely. It’s enough to warrant questioning.”

A murmur erupted in the circle, and I shivered. Freya’s voice cut through the murmur. “How much more must we see to take action? He’s been in trouble for weeks now.”

“Freya,” I snapped; sharper than I meant.

“We don’t act anyhow.” She flung me a glare before saying nothing and stepped back into the crowd, arms across her chest.

They were leading Rowan into the great hall, his hands bound loosely and flanked by two guards, his face pale, his eyes darting about the room in a nervous fashion.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice shaking with fear and anger.

Trajan stepped forward, expression neutral, firm. “Evidence has surfaced that links you to the fire.”

Rowan’s face contorted in a mix of incredulity. “That’s crazy! I had nothing to do with it.”

“Then explain this,” Trajan said, holding up the scattered paper.

Rowan’s eyes went wide and he stepped backward. “I don’t know how that got there. Someone’s trying to frame me!”

The murmurs grew loud, doubt seeping into the faces of the onlookers. I raised my hand, silencing them. “Enough.”

I took another step closer to him, forcing him to face me straight on. “If you are innocent, you gotta cooperate. Fighting only makes it worse.” His jaw flexed but then nodded.

“I’ll tell you anything you want but you gotta believe me, I didn’t start that fire.”

“I’m sorry, Rowan, you have to be arrested again till we confirm your innocence.”

“Take him away,” I said.

Later, I visited Rowan in the holding cell. The place was dark, thick with damp stone. He sat on the cot, head buried in his hands.

“Rowan,” I said quietly, stepping closer to him.

He lifted his head, eyes bloodshot, “You don’t think I did, do you?” he asked, low and doubtfully, as if he shored up his words.

“I don’t want to believe so,” I allowed, “but the evidence against

“Isn’t real,” he cut in, voice stronger. “I swear, Aurora, I didn’t do this. Alinn, she’s been playing me. I was too blind to see it before, but now.”

“Now what?” I pushed, heart twisting with the desperation in his voice.

“She’s been planting seeds, making me doubt myself, making me doubt you,” he said. “I think it’s her behind this. I just don’t have the proof, I don’t even know how I fell for her again.”

His words hung heavy in the air. A part of me so wanted to believe him, but this weight was just too much to possibly turn a blind eye to.

“Rowan, if there is any truth in what you are saying, we will find it. For now, you need to keep calm and cooperate. Understand?”

He nodded, defeated, weighing his shoulders down. “I just want to make things right.”

I had just turned from the holding cell when, really, my mind tangled itself in a million doubts and question marks.

Sure, there was concrete evidence found on Rowan, but that one confession about Alina just put another twist into this.

I was midway down the hall when murmurings of voices reached around the corner into my ears. I immediately leaned in a bit closer, instantly recognizing one of them.

“It is all falling together,” Alina’s voice came through, even, slippery.

My heartbeat quickened; I leaned into the bend of the wall to take in the sight of her, talking to a wolf not known to me, the skin on my spine tingling.

“What is Alina doing?” I whispered quietly to myself.

“And why is it so difficult to catch her red-handed?”