Just Rowan Real Name And Age Novels & Stories

The stranger nodded slowly. “I thought you might.” He planted the butt of his spear against the earth. The forest responded. Trees groaned. Leaves shivered. Even the moonlight seemed brighter. “My name…” His eyes settled on Rowan. “…is Arawn.” The name struck something deep inside her. She didn’t know why. But every instinct she possessed screamed that it mattered. Arawn smiled knowingly. “You’ve heard it before.” “I haven’t.” “You have.” “No.” “You simply don’t remember.”

A red sports car rolled to a stop, and Rowan stepped out casually, his smirk already in place. He spotted Irene first. She had paused near the steps, and he gave her a polite nod. “Good evening, Irene.” She froze but answered softly, her voice nervous. “Good evening.” Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she studied him. Rowan bowed slightly, ever the gentleman. “Rowan Northman. Dante’s best friend and Beta.” Her eyes widened at his words. She glanced at me, our eyes locking for the briefest moment before she quickly looked away.

she revealed. “Oh! I see. Actually, nothing happened between us that night, just the usual arguments and one or two exchanged words,” she lied through her teeth. "Really?” She asked with her eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Nothing, really," she lied again. “Rowan is a jerk suffering from sightlessness. He has a pretty wife with a hot, banging body. He married a beautiful woman that doesn't have to lift even a finger to get men crawling at her feet, begging for her attention and he just wants to throw that away. He would be a damned fool if he lets you slip away,” she remarked.

I asked while the man examined my ankle. “Yes?” He said and looked at me, his eyes widened in recognition. What was he doing here? I thought. Rowan? His real name was Chris Stevens, and he was no doctor.

Rowan's cool voice cuts through my sentence, causing Red and I to break apart. Red's gaze immediately focuses on Rowan's and likewise. Rowan, having no way of reading the room, walks into it without a care in the world. "I see... so you're Indigo's brother. Hello, I'm Rowan, her soon-to-be husband." Rowan introduces himself boldly. I can't help but chuckle under my breath. "You're getting married?" Red asks me, I bite down on my cheeks nervously. "Yeah. In three hours." I reply, and his eyes widen.

"There is a reason I did what I did, though at this point in time you will not understand, not agree with what has already been done. You were adopted at six months of age. Your own biological parents had to give you up to save your life. They died shortly afterward. You see, you are a shifter. A wolf shifter. Those stories that you have heard about werewolves are true. All of them. The reason you do not remember is because your adopted parents had kept you drugged. Made you think that you had a mental illness of sorts. Though, you didn't, and you functioned normally in society. You have been shifting every full moon since you were six years old. Your parents were able to handle you because

I nodded. Rowan didn’t look like he believed me. He brought out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, blowing the smoke in my face. “So, you’re my elder brother?” He asked with a chuckle. I remained calm as I watched him. He didn’t look like the little brother I knew. He was a man and even worse, a broken one. “Biologically, yes,” I responded. He arched an eyebrow at me. “Seems like you have a lot to say Mr Fancy style,”

"Just a lazy day recovering from the party. How was your anniversary getaway?" "Perfect," Roderick chimed in for both of them, kissing my forehead as he passed his briefcase to another maid. "Your mother dragged me to three different wineries, and I didn’t complain even once." Mom laughed, playfully swatting his arm, and for just a moment, the normalcy of it all felt soothing, until movement on the staircase caught my eye. Rowan was slowly coming down, his dark hair a bit tousled from whatever he’d been doing upstairs. He wore a simple black hoodie and gray sweatpants, looking effortlessly casual, which made my heart race and my cheeks heat up.

And I preferred to be here with my own project. "That's good," someone said from behind me. I turned around. A mature man wearing a neat shirt with a briefcase in his hand. He approached me, more precisely, to look at my laptop screen. "Oh, wow. You have incredible talent. Are you a senior?" I was silent. I was just doing this for fun. "No, I'm a freshman..." "Rowan. You can call me Rowan. Alpha of the Red Fang Pack." "You're an Alpha?" He touched his lips with his finger, reminding me that we were in the library.

Rowan's pov "You walked in, saw what you saw, and shut down. You didn't let either of us explain. We were young, Rowan. We were barely 18 years old, stupid, and overwhelmed by the pressure of our families. Elis was lonely, and I was... I was incredibly reckless. It was a mistake. A horrible, stupid mistake, but that wasnt even the whole story at all." He pleaded but I didnt care.