Chapter 10: The Choice Fate Could Not Make for Me

Cole didn’t come home that night. I only knew because Mrs. Mercer knocked on our door shortly after nine. Mom opened it while I was sitting at the dining table reviewing tactical maps. Mrs. Mercer looked exhausted. “Is Aurora here?” Mom glanced at me before stepping aside. Mrs. Mercer entered slowly. I had known her my entire life. She had taught me how to make cinnamon rolls. She had sat beside my bed when I had the flu at seven. For years, I had called her Aunt Elena. Now neither of us seemed to know what to call the other. “I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. “It’s okay.” She twisted her fingers together. “Cole hasn’t come home.” My stomach tightened automatically. Old habits. Old concern. Then I reminded myself that concern did not equal responsibility. “Did you call him?” “He’s blocking his father’s mindlink.” Mom frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Cole.” “No.” Mrs. Mercer looked at me. “Something happened today.” It wasn’t a question.

I closed my notebook. “He found out I met my mate.” Mrs. Mercer went still. Mom leaned against the counter. For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then Mrs. Mercer whispered, “Oh.” There was so much contained in that one sound. Surprise. Understanding. Maybe even grief for the future our families had once casually imagined. “Who?” “Rowan Blackwood.” Her eyes widened. “The Silvercrest heir?” “Yes.” Mrs. Mercer sank into a chair. “I see.” I waited for her to ask whether I was sure. She didn’t. Instead, she covered her face briefly. “Cole thought you would always be there.” The words irritated me. “That isn’t my problem.” “No.” She immediately lowered her hands. “No, Aurora. It isn’t.” Her eyes were red. “I’m not here to ask you to comfort him. I would never do that after what he did.” Some of the tension left my shoulders. “I just wanted to know if there was something else I should be aware of before we find him.” I hesitated. “He confronted Rowan.” Her face paled. “There wasn’t a fight. Rowan didn’t touch him.” “Cole?” “He didn’t either.” She exhaled. “Thank the Moon.”

Mrs. Mercer stood to leave, then paused beside me. “I found the box.” My fingers tightened around my pen. “What box?” “The things you threw away.” I stared at her. “I thought the trash had been collected.” “Cole took it out before collection.” Of course he had. “He put everything in his room.” I didn’t know what to say. Mrs. Mercer gave me a sad smile. “He was sitting on the floor with that ridiculous wooden wolf charm when I confronted him about the slap.” The charm. Cole had carved it when we were eleven. One ear was too large, one leg shorter than the other, and he had been furious when I called it adorable. I had treasured it for years. Now the memory felt like something belonging to another girl. “I don’t want it back,” I said. “I know.” She left a moment later. Mom locked the door behind her. Then she looked at me. “You okay?” “Yes.” And surprisingly, I meant it.

Cole returned sometime after midnight. I heard the Mercer door open across the hall. Voices rose. His father shouted once. Cole shouted back. Then came a crash. Echo lifted her head. I remained in bed. Whatever happened inside that apartment belonged to their family. Not me. The realization was freeing. I put in my earbuds and went to sleep.

The next morning, Rowan was waiting outside Ashvale’s main building. He held two cartons. One plain milk. One strawberry. I stopped. He looked down at them. “I was told strategists require fuel.” “Who told you I like strawberry?” “Maya.” I narrowed my eyes. “She talks too much.” “Probably.” He held both cartons toward me. “I didn’t know whether she was messing with me, so I bought both.” I took the strawberry. “You could have asked.” “I could have.” “Why didn’t you?” His mouth curved. “Because then I wouldn’t have a backup if Maya lied.” I laughed. Behind us, footsteps stopped. Cole. His gaze fixed on the pink carton in my hand. Something raw crossed his face. For years, strawberry milk had been one of our tiny rituals. Yesterday it would have been easy to interpret Rowan’s gesture as replacing Cole. But that wasn’t what it felt like. Rowan wasn’t restoring an old ritual. He was learning something new about me.

Cole walked past without speaking. I was relieved. Rowan watched him go. “He looks terrible.” “He didn’t go home until after midnight.” Rowan glanced at me. “You know because you were waiting?” “No. We live across the hall from each other.” His eyebrows rose. “That’s inconvenient.” “You have no idea.” He opened his plain milk. “Do you want me to stay away from your building?” The question surprised me. “Why?” “I don’t want my presence to make your home situation worse.” I considered it. “No. I’m not going to organize my life around Cole’s reactions anymore.” Rowan nodded. “Okay.” No argument. No dramatic promise. Just okay.

During tactical practice, our team improved quickly. Maya was faster than she had initially admitted. “You lied about being terrified of combat,” I accused after she disarmed another student. “I said I’m a hybrid placement. I never said I was bad.” Rowan tossed her practice knife back. “She’s terrifying.” “Thank you.” We spent the next hour refining routes. Rowan challenged my plans without undermining me. When he disagreed, he explained why. When I proved him wrong, he accepted it. When he proved me wrong, I changed the plan. It was embarrassingly simple. Respect. I had spent so long defending myself from jokes disguised as affection that I had forgotten relationships could function without someone constantly losing.

After practice, Rowan and I sat beneath an old oak near the arena. Students moved around us in groups. Neither of us mentioned the mate bond for several minutes. Eventually, I did. “My parents were chosen mates.” Rowan looked over. “Not fated?” “No. Mom met her fated mate when she was eighteen.” “What happened?” “He rejected her.” Rowan winced. “She met Dad years later. They chose each other.” I picked at the edge of my notebook. “She told me fate creates a possibility, not a guarantee.” “My parents say something similar.” I looked at him. “Your parents are fated?” “Yes.” “Happy?” “Annoyingly.” I smiled. Rowan’s expression softened. “I’m not going to ask you to accept the bond right now.” “I know.” “I mean it.” “So do I.” He leaned back against the tree. “I’ve known you for two days.” “Exactly.” “But my wolf acts like we’ve been waiting our whole lives.” Echo immediately agreed. I sighed. “Mine too.” For the first time, we openly acknowledged it. The air between us seemed warmer. Rowan looked at me. “Can I ask something?” “Yes.” “Did you love him?” I knew who he meant. “Yes.” There was no point lying. “For years.” Rowan absorbed that without flinching. “Do you still?” I thought of Cole standing in elementary school promising to protect me. Cole squeezing my hand under the dinner table. Cole bringing plain milk because Amber preferred it. Cole laughing when she mocked me. Cole ordering me to apologize. Cole’s hand crossing my face. “No,” I said. It surprised me how certain I sounded. “I think part of me is still grieving who I believed he was. But that isn’t the same as loving who he is now.” Rowan nodded. “That makes sense.”

I looked at him. “Aren’t you jealous?” “Of your past?” “Yes.” He thought about it. “My wolf doesn’t like imagining you loving someone else.” Echo gave a smug little huff. “But?” “But I’m not my wolf.” That sentence stayed with me. Cole had blamed his awakened strength. His anger. His instincts. Rowan spoke about his wolf as part of himself, but not an excuse for himself. “Control matters to you,” I said. “A lot.” “Why?” His gaze shifted toward the training arena. “My older brother lost control during his first shift.” I went still. “I didn’t know you had a brother.” “Had.” The single word answered too much. “I’m sorry.” “He was sixteen. He attacked another young wolf during a dominance challenge. The other boy survived. My brother didn’t.” I didn’t ask for details. Rowan rubbed his thumb across his knuckles. “My father taught me after that: strength without control is just danger with a good reputation.” I thought of Cole. The strongest boy in our class. The future warrior everyone admired. A boy who had used that strength against someone who trusted him. “I like your father’s rule.” “So do I.”

A shadow fell across us. Amber. She looked down at me. “Can I talk to you?” Maya, several feet away, immediately began walking over. I shook my head slightly. She stopped. Rowan looked at me. I nodded. He stood. “I’ll be by the arena.” Amber watched him leave. Then she sat on the grass without asking. For once, she wasn’t smiling. “Cole won’t talk to me.” I stared at her. “And?” Her jaw tightened. “He blames me.” “That sounds like something you should discuss with Cole.” “He said none of this would have happened if I hadn’t kept provoking you.” I almost laughed. “Interesting.” “I told him he was the one who slapped you.” “At least one of you understands cause and effect.” Her eyes flashed. “I didn’t come here to fight.” “Then why are you here?” She looked toward Rowan. “Do you actually like him?” “That’s also none of your business.” “Cole thinks you’re doing this to punish him.” “Cole thinks the sun rises because I wake up.” Amber’s mouth twitched despite herself. Then her face hardened again. “You know he never looked at me the way he looked at you.” I said nothing. “I thought he would.” There it was. The first honest thing Amber had ever said to me.

She plucked a blade of grass. “You followed him everywhere. Everyone knew you liked him. It was annoying.” “So you bullied me.” “I teased you.” “No. You bullied me.” Amber’s cheeks colored. “You always had him.” “I never had him. People aren’t possessions.” “You know what I mean.” “Yes. I do.” I looked directly at her. “And that makes what you did worse, not better. You wanted his attention, so you decided humiliating another girl was entertaining.” She looked away. “I didn’t think he’d hit you.” “Neither did I.” Silence settled between us. Finally, Amber stood. “I’m not apologizing for everything.” “Then don’t.” She frowned. “You don’t care?” “I stopped needing things from you.” That seemed to unsettle her more than anger would have. She walked away.

Rowan returned after she disappeared. “How bad?” “Less dramatic than expected.” He offered me his hand to help me stand. Then paused before touching me. “Okay?” I looked at his open palm. A choice. Always a choice. I placed my hand in his. “Yes.” Warmth surged through the bond. Echo practically melted. Rowan pulled me to my feet and immediately released me. But this time, I found myself wishing he had held on a second longer. That realization frightened me. And thrilled me. As we walked toward the academy, I understood something I hadn’t before. Leaving Cole wasn’t the end of my story. Meeting Rowan wasn’t the beginning of a new romance either. The real beginning was simpler. For the first time, I was learning that love—fated or chosen—was supposed to leave room for me to choose myself.