Rowan Whitethorn Quotes Novels & Stories

I tried to hide away from the ringing in my ears, from Charlotte’s voice. [“Do you still think you should hang up on him? Do you think Rowan deserves to be with a public slut? Do you still think you have a chance with him? You both are a Great Wall apart and you are just going to drag him backward, stain his name, stain his reputation and bring shame to his crown!”

Rowan moved quickly, stepping forward, raising his voice just enough to cut through the noise and bring some order back to the room. “Enough!” he called. It took a moment but eventually, the noise began to settle. Rowan turned to me, stepping closer, his voice dropping low as he pulled me back slightly. “What the fuck are you trying to do?” he whispered harshly. “Do you realize the implication of what you just said?” I straightened, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I’m not a kid, Rowan,” I replied quietly. “I didn’t call everyone here for child’s play. I know exactly what I’m saying.”

His shoulders look narrow and weak underneath a fancy ivory ceremonial tunic, decorated with a fresh white peony flower pinned to his chest. "Hey!" he shrieks as we collide, trying to shove us away from his path. But his green eyes suddenly widen to the size of saucers the moment his gaze lands on Rowan’s face. "You!" "Yuck," Rowan spits out, her ears flattening in pure disgust. "Who in the hell are you?" I step forward instantly, using my massive frame to shield her entire body from his sight. "I am Tristan Whitlock!" He announces his name with a puffed chest, as if my wolf is supposed to drop to its knees in fear.

"Mr. Johnson, you should be ashamed of yourself. Despite the abuse I endured, I didn't report you. Yet, you have the audacity to spread slander about me everywhere. Did you even consider the consequences for me?" "Hmph, that's your own fault! You offended people above your station, so naturally, you have to pay the price. And it's not over yet, you bitch." Hearing his tone, Rowan sensed something in his words and asked, "Who are you referring to?" "You don't know who you've offended? Rowan, don't play dumb! It won't end like this, just wait. It's not over."

Rowan studied him for a moment, then said, “You look like hell.” Casey blinked again, startled. “Thank you.” Rowan shrugged. “It’s not an insult. It’s an observation.” He let out a breath that might’ve been a sigh. “Yeah. I feel like hell.” Rowan tapped her beer bottle with a finger. “Then go home.” Casey’s eyes narrowed slightly, amused despite himself. “You always tell people what to do?” Rowan smiled, sharp and unapologetic. “Only when they’re making dumb choices.”

My throat closed on words too big for my mouth. "You'll see why I was unable to say it. You'll see why certain things are to be discovered and not to be uttered." His jaws clenched, the muscle flexing under his skin as irritation skipped over his face like a flash of lightning. I knew he hated riddles, hated not knowing when the answer lay just under his nose. Rowan was an uncomplicated man, a man who liked to act rather than to question, and I was making him navigate a maze when all he wanted was a certainty. But before he could speak his disapproval, before he could ask for something I was not yet ready to grant, I continued on, speaking in a whisper beneath the load of the accumulated yea

“We are all broken, that’s how the light gets in.” — Leonard Cohen. ROWAN The silence after exile was louder than the verdict itself. "Rowan, where are you going?" Lily called out after me. "A walk," I responded with a forced smile. Her hand paused mid-stir, the wooden spoon hovering over the bowl. Her eyes swept over me, searching, measuring, maybe realizing that the walk wasn’t really about fresh air. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay, be safe," she murmured, turning back inside.

“But fine. Do whatever you want. Just don’t come running back when you realize you’ve walked straight into death.” Rowan didn’t flinch. “I won’t,” he said simply. Then, without another word, he turned and walked away

“But Crescent Harbor is filled with corporate families and working-class people. There’s no mafia presence there, and it’s no fucking coincidence that these men are heading there.” Rowan took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before continuing. “Besides, you could use this as an opportunity to see if we can work with Adrian Whitmore. His people have been on my neck for the past few days, and I'm tired of deflecting him. Think of it as using one stone to kill two birds.” I sighed and shook my head. "I told you I don't want to do business with that Whetmore guy. I don't like how his face looks."