Semua Bab The Rogue’s Savage Claim on Me: Bab 31 - Bab 40

He trailed off, and I reached for his hand."The fire," I said softly. "You lost them in the fire.""Yes." His voice was rough. "Mother told me run. Take brother and run. I was seven — just pup. Barely old enough to hunt alone." He swallowed hard. "Didn't understand. Just knew... run.""What happened to your brother?" Rowan asked gently.Fao's hand tightened on mine. "Don't know. We got separated. Smoke, fire, screaming... couldn't find him. I ran. Kept running. Never—" His voice broke. "Never found him. Don't know if he survived. Don't know if anyone...""Fao..." I shifted closer, wrapping my arms around him."Twenty-one years," he said quietly. "Twenty-one years alone. No pack. No family. No one to tell me anything. Just... wolf. Running. Surviving." He pressed his face into my hair. "Until you."Rowan was suspiciously quiet. When I looked at her, she was wiping her eyes."Allergies," she muttered. "Shut up.""I didn't say anything.""You were thinking it." She sniffed aggressively.

Later, after I'd shifted back and put on clothes (at Elowen's insistence), we sat together in the living room while Rowan typed furiously on her laptop."Werewolves," she muttered. "Werewolf lore. Werewolf origins.""You're not going to find anything useful on Google," Elowen said."You'd be surprised what you can find on Google at 2 AM with the right search terms." Rowan's fingers flew across the keys. "Okay, so most of this is garbage. Hollywood stuff, horror movie crap. But there's some older folklore that's interesting."I watched her work, fascinated by the way her eyes moved across the glowing screen. Reading. Something I could do but didn't understand how."Here." Rowan turned the laptop toward us. "Irish werewolf legends. There are stories about the faoladh — wolf-men who were considered protectors, not monsters. They'd guard children and wounded men, guide lost travelers.""Faoladh," I repeated. The word felt strange on my tongue. Familiar and foreign at once."It's similar t

Shopping was also an experience.The store was overwhelming — too bright, too loud, too many smells. Chemicals and perfume and hundreds of humans who had touched every surface. I stayed close to Elowen, one hand on her hip, fighting the urge to growl at everyone who walked too close."He looks like he's about to murder someone," Rowan observed cheerfully."He's fine," Elowen said. "Aren't you, Fao?""Fine," I managed through gritted teeth.Rowan shoved clothes at me — shirts, pants, things I didn't know the names of. Elowen steered me toward a small room with a curtain and explained I was supposed to take my clothes off and try the new ones on."Why?""To see if they fit.""Can't you just... look at them and know?""That's not how it works."I did not understand humans.But I tried on the clothes. Some were too tight, some too loose. Rowan kept handing me things through the curtain while making comments I didn't fully understand but that made Elowen blush.While I struggled with somet

We walked for hours.Rowan asked questions — about my memories, my instincts, how the shift felt, what I could sense in either form. I answered as best I could, shifting to human when words were needed, back to wolf when we needed to move.Elowen walked between us, her hand in my fur when I was wolf, her fingers tangled with mine when I was human. Happy. She smelled happy, and it made something in my chest swell to bursting."You're good for her too, you know," I told Rowan during one of my human stretches. "She's different when you're here. Lighter."Rowan smiled, soft and genuine. "We've been friends since high school. She's the only person who puts up with my bullshit.""She loves your bullshit.""Yeah, well." Rowan's voice went thick. "I love hers too."Elowen caught up to us, slightly out of breath from the incline. "What are you two talking about now?""You," Rowan said."Love," I added.Elowen blushed, that pretty pink color spreading across her cheeks. "You're both ridiculous.

ELOWENWEDNESDAYSomething was wrong.I felt it the moment I stepped on stage — a prickle at the back of my neck, an unease I couldn't name. The bond with Fao hummed steady in my chest, reassuring, but there was something else. Something outside of that.I moved through my routine on autopilot, letting the music guide my body. The pole was familiar, the lights hot, the faces in the crowd a blur of anonymous want. This was my job — not my passion, not my dream, but good money and flexible hours and a way to keep the cabin and my independence.I hooked my leg around the pole and spun, arching my back, letting my hair fall loose. The crowd appreciated it — I could hear the murmurs, the rustle of bills being pulled from wallets. But my eyes kept scanning, searching for the source of that wrongness.Then I saw him.Trevor.He was sitting in the VIP section, leaned back like he owned the place, a drink in his hand and his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. Not the d