Chapter 15: Silvercrest

Two weeks after the regional trials, an official envelope arrived from Silvercrest.

Dad placed it on the breakfast table like it contained an explosive.

“It has an Alpha seal.”

Mom rolled her eyes.

“It’s an invitation, Daniel.”

“It has an Alpha seal.”

“Yes. Because it came from an Alpha.”

I reached for it.

Dad moved it away.

“Maybe we should inspect it.”

“Dad.”

“I’m joking.”

He was not entirely joking.

I opened the envelope.

Inside was an invitation from Alpha Darius and Luna Celeste Blackwood for my family to visit Silvercrest during the autumn moon festival.

My stomach fluttered.

Rowan had mentioned the festival.

He had not mentioned that his parents intended to formally invite mine.

Mom read over my shoulder.

“Oh, that sounds lovely.”

Dad read over the other shoulder.

“Three nights?”

“Dad.”

“I’m reading.”

“You’re interrogating stationery.”

He frowned at me.

“Future Alpha’s family invites my daughter across pack territory. I’m allowed to read carefully.”

Mom kissed his cheek.

“You’re adorable when threatened.”

“I am not threatened.”

“You bought a portable alarm for a werewolf date.”

Dad walked away.

I laughed.

We accepted.

The trip became academy gossip within twenty-four hours.

I suspected Maya.

She denied everything with the unconvincing dignity of a criminal caught holding evidence.

Cole heard too.

He didn’t confront me.

That was becoming normal.

We passed each other in halls.

Sometimes we nodded.

Sometimes we didn’t.

The distance no longer felt like an open wound.

It felt like a boundary settling into place.

Amber returned from suspension quieter than before.

She no longer called me Princess.

She no longer made comments about my clothes.

We were not friends.

I didn’t need us to be.

One afternoon, she stopped beside my desk.

“I owe you an apology.”

I looked up.

She seemed physically uncomfortable.

“For the photo. And the other stuff.”

I waited.

“I was jealous.”

“I know.”

Her cheeks reddened.

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No.”

“I’m sorry.”

I studied her.

“Thank you.”

She blinked.

“That’s it?”

“What else do you want?”

“I don’t know.”

“Forgiveness?”

She looked away.

“Maybe.”

“I’m not there yet.”

Her mouth tightened.

Then she nodded.

“Fair.”

She walked away.

It wasn’t dramatic.

No tears.

No sudden friendship.

Just accountability.

I respected that more than a performance.

Silvercrest territory began three hours north of Ironwood.

The landscape changed as we drove.

Ironwood was dense forest and rolling hills.

Silvercrest rose into mountains.

Pine-covered slopes surrounded a broad valley, and the pack town sat beside a clear lake reflecting snow-tipped peaks.

It was beautiful.

Rowan waited at the territory gate with his parents.

The moment I stepped from the car, Echo surged happily.

Rowan smiled.

The bond had grown stronger over the last few weeks.

Not overwhelming.

Familiar.

Comforting.

“Welcome to Silvercrest.”

I looked around.

“This is unfair.”

“What?”

“You live here.”

He laughed.

Alpha Darius greeted my parents.

Luna Celeste hugged Mom within thirty seconds and somehow convinced Dad to relax within five minutes.

I understood immediately where Rowan got his calmness.

The Blackwood home was not a palace.

I had expected something intimidating.

Instead, it was a large stone-and-timber house overlooking the lake, warm and lived-in.

Family photographs covered one wall.

I stopped at one.

Two boys stood beside Darius and Celeste.

Rowan was younger.

Beside him stood another boy with the same silver eyes.

His brother.

Elias.

Rowan came to stand beside me.

“That was the summer before.”

I knew what he meant.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t remove the photograph.

I liked that.

Grief had a place in this house.

It wasn’t hidden.

That evening, the festival began.

Silvercrest’s central square glowed with lanterns.

Food stalls lined the streets.

Children ran around wearing fake wolf ears despite the fact that every person there was an actual werewolf.

“This is ridiculous,” I said.

Rowan wore a pair.

“You lack culture.”

“You’re the future Alpha.”

“Exactly. I represent my people.”

I laughed and bought pink ears.

He stared.

“Now who lacks dignity?”

“I never claimed to have any.”

We walked through the festival.

People recognized Rowan constantly.

Some bowed their heads.

Others greeted him casually.

He knew names.

Not everyone’s, but many.

An elderly vendor handed him roasted chestnuts and refused payment.

“You fixed my roof last winter.”

“You fed me for three days.”

“You were too skinny.”

Rowan looked at me.

“I was not.”

The woman ignored him and gave me twice as many chestnuts.

“Keep him fed.”

I nearly choked.

Rowan turned red.

I loved Silvercrest immediately.

Later, we climbed a hill overlooking the festival.

Lanterns floated across the lake.

Music drifted upward.

Rowan sat beside me on the grass.

“Too much?”

“No.”

“My father can be intense.”

“Your father spent dinner arguing with mine about fishing knots.”

“That’s how Alpha diplomacy works.”

I smiled.

Then Rowan grew serious.

“There’s something I should tell you.”

Echo stirred.

“What?”

“My father wants me to begin formal heir training next year.”

“I assumed you already were.”

“Not fully.”

He picked up a blade of grass.

“It means spending more time here. Less at interpack programs.”

I understood the unspoken question.

Where would that leave us?

“We’re sixteen,” I said.

“Seventeen next month.”

“Ancient.”

He nudged me.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

I looked at the lake.

“I don’t want us making life decisions around a bond we’ve had for a few weeks.”

Relief and disappointment crossed his face together.

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Then why do you look sad?”

“Because agreeing with the reasonable answer doesn’t mean I like it.”

I laughed softly.

“That’s fair.”

He looked at me.

“I want this, Aurora.”

The bond warmed.

“Us.”

My heart beat faster.

“I do too.”

It was the first time I said it clearly.

Rowan’s eyes flashed silver.

“But,” I continued.

He groaned.

“There’s always a but.”

“I want to finish Ashvale. I want strategy certification. Maybe university.”

“You should.”

“And you should do heir training if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then we figure out the rest later.”

He studied me.

“No dramatic mate ceremony tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not.”

“My grandmother will be devastated.”

I stared.

“You told your grandmother?”

“My father told everyone.”

I covered my face.

Rowan laughed.

Then his expression softened.

“Can I kiss you?”

Everything inside me went still.

Echo did not answer for me.

Neither did fate.

I looked at Rowan.

At the boy who had waited.

Asked.

Listened.

The boy whose wolf might have recognized mine instantly, but who had never treated recognition as ownership.

“Yes.”

He leaned closer slowly.

Slow enough that I could change my mind.

His hand lifted, then stopped beside my face.

I nodded.

His fingers touched my cheek.

The same cheek Cole had struck.

For one brief second, memory flashed.

A raised hand.

Pain.

The classroom.

My body tensed.

Rowan immediately stopped.

“We don’t have to.”

I breathed.

The mountain air filled my lungs.

Echo remained calm.

I placed my hand over Rowan’s.

“I want to.”

His eyes searched mine.

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

This time, when he leaned in, I met him halfway.

The kiss was gentle.

Warm.

Nothing like lightning.

Nothing like the dramatic stories people told about fated mates.

It felt better than that.

It felt chosen.

When we pulled apart, Rowan rested his forehead against mine.

Echo finally spoke.

*Good.*

I laughed.

“What?”

“My wolf is smug.”

“Mine has been unbearable since the library.”

We sat beneath the moon until the festival music faded.

The next morning, Dad found Rowan and me on the porch drinking coffee and hot chocolate.

He stared at us.

Then at the distance between our chairs.

Then at Rowan.

“Morning.”

Rowan nearly stood at attention.

“Good morning, sir.”

I bit my lip.

Dad nodded.

“Sleep well?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Interesting.”

“Dad.”

Mom dragged him away by the sleeve.

Rowan waited until the door closed.

“Your father is terrifying.”

“You fight trained wolves.”

“They’re simpler.”

I laughed so loudly birds scattered from the railing.

On our final day, Luna Celeste walked with me beside the lake.

“You know,” she said, “everyone will have opinions about what you and Rowan should do.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Fated bonds make people romantic and stupid.”

I looked at her.

She smiled.

“Sometimes simultaneously.”

“You’re fated to Alpha Darius.”

“Yes.”

“And happy.”

“Very.”

She stopped.

“But happiness came because we built something after fate introduced us.”

Her words echoed what Rowan had said the first day.

“Don’t let anyone tell you a mate bond requires you to abandon yourself.”

I thought of Cole.

Of the years I had spent shaping myself around his preferences.

“I won’t.”

Celeste squeezed my shoulder.

“Good.”

When we returned to Ironwood, the apartment hallway felt smaller than I remembered.

Cole was coming out of his apartment as we carried bags inside.

He saw the Silvercrest festival ribbon tied around my wrist.

Then the crescent necklace.

His expression flickered.

“How was it?”

“Good.”

He nodded.

“Glad you had fun.”

“Thanks.”

He moved aside so we could pass.

No questions.

No accusation.

No attempt to make my happiness about him.

As I entered our apartment, I realized something.

Cole was changing.

Maybe slowly.

Maybe too late for us.

But not too late for himself.

And I was changing too.

I had gone to Silvercrest afraid that accepting Rowan would mean surrendering myself to another relationship.

Instead, I came home understanding the opposite.

The right person did not ask me to become smaller so there would be more room for them.

Rowan stood beside me and somehow left me with more space to become myself.

That night, he sent me a message.

*Home safe?*

I replied:

*Yes.*

Then:

*I miss Silvercrest already.*

Three dots appeared.

*Silvercrest misses you.*

A second message followed.

*I miss you more.*

I smiled at my phone.

Echo curled contentedly inside me.

For once, I did not feel like a girl waiting to be chosen.

I felt like a girl building a life.

And choosing who deserved a place in it.