Chapter 5 — Kiss Me Without the Bond

Elliot

At six the next morning, I found Daniel sitting on the fire stairs with his boots on.

His shift should have started at five.

The radio clipped to his belt was silent.

I sat beside him.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

The alley below smelled of rain and bread from the bakery on the corner. A delivery driver stacked trays outside the back door.

Ordinary people were beginning an ordinary Sunday.

Daniel rubbed a thumb over a scuff on his boot.

“Your mother says I should use the time to fix the porch.”

“The porch has been crooked for two years.”

“She’s patient.”

“With the porch?”

“With me.”

I looked at his radio.

He followed my gaze.

“Temporary,” he said.

“You don’t know that.”

“No.”

He had always been careful about promises.

When I first came to their house, he never said nothing bad would happen again.

He said he would come when I called.

He had kept that one.

“What if they take your position?”

“Then I’ll find other work.”

“You love patrol.”

“I love coming home more.”

I pressed my palms against my knees.

Daniel leaned back against the rail.

“When I found you, I didn’t check your registration.”

“I know.”

“I’m telling you because someone is going to ask me whether I’d do anything differently.”

The delivery driver dropped a tray.

Metal rang against pavement.

I flinched.

Daniel waited until I looked at him again.

“I’d bring a second blanket,” he said. “That’s all.”

I put my head against his shoulder.

For once, I didn’t try to think of something useful to say.

The call came through a number Dr. Ortiz had given me.

She had contacted another adult former resident of Black Hollow, with his permission, after I asked whether anyone might be willing to confirm how residency rules were enforced.

He had declined at first.

Then Daniel’s suspension appeared on the local forum.

At nine twenty, my phone rang.

“My name’s Owen,” the man said. “You don’t know me.”

“I’m Elliot.”

“I know.”

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet for whatever room he was in.

“Dr. Ortiz said you might want to talk.”

“Your father’s the man who found you?”

“Yes.”

“He brought me to the clinic last winter.”

I sat down.

“He never told me.”

“I asked him not to.”

“All right.”

There was breathing on the line.

Then Owen said, “I was at Black Hollow when you were there.”

My fingers closed around the phone.

“Where?”

“The kitchens. Laundry sometimes.”

“You saw me?”

“Twice.”

I looked at the window.

I didn’t want to ask.

I asked anyway.

“Do you remember when?”

He gave me a month.

Then an event.

The winter inventory. Three delivery trucks. A broken water pipe in the main building.

Details I had never told anyone.

“I’m twenty-three now,” Owen said. “I left last year. My sister’s still there.”

“That’s why you didn’t want to talk.”

“Yes.”

“I won’t put her name in anything.”

“Names don’t have to be written down for people to know.”

I thought of the six files.

The neatly closed boxes.

“Would you speak to a council investigator somewhere outside this territory?”

“Can they make me go back?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I can ask before you agree.”

He went silent.

I let him.

Finally, he said, “Most people say no too quickly.”

Rowan arrived twenty minutes later.

He didn’t ask me to hand over the phone.

He sat at the kitchen table while I explained what Owen needed.

Then he called Ward on speaker.

We discussed a neutral location, a recorded statement, limited disclosure of the witness’s identity, and a place to stay afterward.

Nothing was promised until it was arranged.

Owen listened from his end of the call.

When Ward asked whether he would attend the hearing in person, he said no.

Rowan’s jaw tightened.

He waited.

“I can record it,” Owen said. “If someone checks that it’s me without putting my address in the file.”

Ward agreed to send an independent examiner.

“And his sister?” I asked.

“We need her age and circumstances before proposing anything,” Ward said.

“Send the questions through me. Don’t contact Black Hollow.”

She agreed.

Afterward, Rowan studied the map on his tablet.

“We can house him in Cedar Falls. Separate territory. I know the commander.”

“Someone Silas doesn’t routinely speak to?”

“Yes.”

“Not your family guesthouse.”

“No.”

“And the person taking him there shouldn’t know where the second night will be.”

Rowan looked up.

“You’ve thought about this.”

“I’ve thought about leaving.”

He held my gaze.

Then he moved the map closer.

“Show me what you’re worried about.”

We worked through the route together.

For the first time, fear felt like information I could use.

Miriam came at noon carrying a leather tool case and a paper bag of pastries.

She put the pastries in front of Grace.

“The tools are for the ring,” she said. “Those are for everyone who looks as though they’ve forgotten lunch exists.”

Caleb took the bag.

“Finally, a professional.”

Miriam examined the broken stone beneath a small magnifying lamp.

“Impact,” she said. “The setting twisted. I can replace it.”

“How long?”

“I brought a spare.”

I looked at her.

She raised an eyebrow.

“You break more things than you admit.”

“I broke one thing.”

“One expensive thing.”

Rowan looked toward the window.

I nudged his shoe beneath the table.

He coughed.

Miriam took the ring into the spare bedroom to work.

When she returned, a new purple stone sat in the repaired setting.

“The ward will suppress your scent and reduce the pressure of Alpha command,” she said. “It won’t make you invisible. And it won’t erase a bond you’ve already recognized.”

“Can it quiet it?”

“Somewhat.”

I slipped it on.

The change was gentle.

The apartment stopped feeling crowded with Rowan’s presence.

My wolf settled.

I could still tell where he stood.

Now I wasn’t certain whether that was magic or the fact that I kept looking at him.

Miriam checked the fit.

“Give it an hour before deciding whether it needs adjusting.”

I nodded.

Across the table, Rowan was watching my hand.

He looked almost relieved.

Almost.

An hour later, he went downstairs to take a call.

I followed him to the unused dispatch office after Grace asked whether he wanted the dinner order changed.

The room still held a desk, a wall map, and a narrow sofa.

Rowan stood near the window, phone lowered.

“What did Grace need?”

“To know whether you eat mushrooms.”

“I do.”

“Even the suspicious ones from takeout?”

“Especially those.”

I stayed by the desk.

The repaired ring felt cool against my finger.

He glanced at it.

“Better?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He said it sincerely.

Something in his face still made me step closer.

“Does it bother you?”

“The ring?”

“That I wanted it back.”

“No.”

I waited.

He rubbed the back of his neck.

“I liked knowing where you were without thinking about it. That doesn’t mean you owe me the feeling.”

I stopped in front of him.

Close enough that I had to tilt my head.

His eyes moved to mine.

“Can you still feel it?” he asked.

“Less.”

“All right.”

“I can feel other things.”

His breathing changed.

Very slightly.

I noticed anyway.

“Elliot.”

“You say my name like you’re reminding yourself of something.”

“Usually to behave.”

I smiled before I could help it.

His gaze dropped to the smile.

Then to my mouth.

There it was.

No cracked stone. No ballroom full of witnesses.

Just a man looking at me and trying very hard not to reach.

I touched his shirt near the lowest fastened button.

His abdomen tightened beneath the fabric.

“You’re doing a lot of behaving.”

“I’m beginning to regret mentioning it.”

I looked up.

“Would you kiss me?”

For a second, he didn’t move.

Then his hand lifted and stopped beside my cheek.

“Here?”

“Yes.”

His palm touched my face.

Warm. Careful.

He bent slowly enough that I could have laughed at him.

I didn’t.

The first kiss was softer than I expected.

His mouth brushed mine, paused, then returned when my fingers tightened in his shirt.

I had imagined being kissed as something that happened to me.

I hadn’t expected how much there was to do.

Turn my head.

Move closer.

Let my hand slide from his shirt to the back of his neck.

He made a quiet sound against my mouth.

I felt it all the way down my spine.

When we separated, his forehead rested against mine.

I could hear my own breathing.

His was worse.

“That wasn’t the ring,” I whispered.

“No.”

“Good.”

His thumb moved once along my cheek.

“You can change your mind.”

“Rowan.”

“Right.”

I smiled.

Then kissed him again.

This time, he put his other hand at my waist.

Not pulling.

Holding the place I had chosen to stand.

When I finally stepped back, his hair was no longer particularly tidy.

I liked that more than I should have.

“Before last night,” he said, “I was going to find a reason to visit the library again.”

“You could have borrowed a book.”

“I was hoping you’d recommend one.”

“I still can.”

“Will it be insulting?”

“Probably.”

He laughed and kissed the corner of my mouth.

I let him.

Upstairs, my phone lit up beside the repaired ring’s empty case.

Ward had sent an amended notice.

The preliminary review had been moved from Monday to that evening.

Seven o’clock.

Black Hollow had requested urgent resolution on the grounds that the dispute was affecting regional security.

I read the next paragraph twice.

If my challenge failed, the council would authorize supervised return the following morning.

Rowan stood behind me.

I could still feel his hand at my waist, although he was no longer touching me.

Downstairs, someone started a vehicle.

I looked at the clock.

Four hours.

Owen’s statement wasn’t recorded yet.