Chapter 12

Mallory

"Come in. It's unlocked."

I pushed the door open after he said that.

The registration room was smaller than I'd imagined. One desk, two chairs, curtains half-drawn, only the desk lamp on.

Rowan sat behind the desk, a blank form in front of him, pen lying beside it, untouched.

I figured he probably wasn't actually here to do any registration with me.

Sure enough, when he saw me, he stood up. The chair legs scraped against the floor with a short, sharp sound, like he'd been waiting a long time and couldn't wait to see me.

"Close the door."

I did, but stayed with my back against it, fingers still on the handle, ready to twist it open at any second.

Rowan didn't say anything right away.

The silence lasted about five seconds. The cedar scent in that small room was so thick I could barely breathe. The mark on my neck started burning again. I pressed my chin down hard, letting the collar dig into my throat. That helped me stay clear.

"Mallory."

He said my name, completely different from how he said it in the classroom.

In the classroom he was a professor — steady, controlled, no personal feeling in it at all.

But now his voice was low, his tone heavy, like he was scared of being overheard and scared I wouldn't hear him at the same time.

"Last night at Oldmoon Chapel." He said, "You saved me."

I didn't answer. But it was clearly a statement, not a question.

He stepped forward.

"You saved me. I wanted to say that to you in person. Thank you."

I tightened my grip on the handle, knuckles going white.

He was thanking me. His tone was genuine, his eyes steady, no sign of just going through the motions.

But the only thing in my head was one voice, screaming on repeat: the nice opener is done, what's he going to say next? What does he actually want?

"There's also one more thing." Rowan went on.

He raised his hand, one finger pointing to the side of my neck.

That spot buried under layers of high collar and scent-blocking powder.

"My mark."

The second those words came out, I couldn't stay calm anymore.

"Last night I was poisoned. My wolf was completely out of control. I couldn't stop what he did." His fingertips curled slightly. "It was entirely my fault."

He stepped forward again.

The gap between us was smaller now.

Small enough that I could see the light in his eyes.

"And I know you don't have a wolf. I'm sorry, Mallory. You shouldn't have had to carry this."

That's enough.

I'd heard everything I needed to hear.

He said it wasn't what he wanted, that his wolf had lost control.

He said I didn't have a wolf, that I never should have been marked.

He was using that decency, that consideration, that condescending Alpha gentleness to wrap everything that happened last night into one neat little accident.

Then what?

Then he'd say "I'll find a way to fix this"? Or "I won't let this affect your life"? Or "This stays between us"?

Right. Every option led to the same place — he was cleaning up the mess. He wanted to make this problem go away.

Just like Crowe, every time after getting his tonics, saying warm and gentle things to my face, thinking a few pretty words could make a wolfless waste cry with gratitude.

No.

I didn't want that kind of kindness anymore.

"Mr. Blackwood." I cut him off.

His mouth closed. His eyes landed on my face.

"You don't need to explain." I finally found my voice. "I know exactly what happened last night."

"You were poisoned. Your mind wasn't clear. Your wolf lost control. I happened to be there, happened to save you, and happened to get marked by you in the process. It was one accident after another. I have no misunderstanding about any of it."

I let go of the door handle and put both hands behind my back, not letting him see my fingers shaking.

"So you don't need to thank me. And you don't need to take responsibility."

Rowan frowned. "That's not what I—"

"I won't tell anyone either." I raised my voice, pushing over his. "You're the Blackwood heir. I know what that means. And Oldmoon Chapel is a restricted area. Don't worry, I'm not stupid enough to go around talking about this."

His expression shifted.

Not anger. Not coldness. Something between shock and frustration.

But I didn't have the space to figure out what it meant anymore.

"Besides, I wasn't fully conscious last night either." I lifted my chin and met his eyes. "The blood resonance backlash hit my mind too. My judgment was compromised. So technically, neither of us was in a normal state when any of those choices were made."

I ran my tongue over my dry lips.

"We're even."

After I said that, my heart was beating so hard it almost came up my throat.

Rowan stood there without moving.

He looked at me, lips parting slightly, then closing, like he had a lot to say, but I didn't give him the chance.

Because I was scared that one word of pity from him would make my pathetic little pride fall apart right in front of him.

I turned around. Pulled the door open.

"I'll fill out the registration form and hand it in to the admin office myself. Mr. Blackwood doesn't need to set up another private meeting."

I stepped out without a second of hesitation.

The hallway was long. My footsteps hit the floor and the sound bounced back louder than it should have.

At the corner, my legs gave out. My shoulder hit the wall. I leaned there for a few seconds, pressing hard against the mark on my neck, waiting for the dizziness to pass before I made myself walk away.

But the whole time, I never once looked back.