12. Chapter 12

12

W hile the common room exploded with cheers, applause, and congratulations twelve hours later for Rowan Blackmoon having officially sworn in as Shade’s newest member, the only thing Rebecca could think about was how much harder she’d have to work from here on out to keep her anger in check.

Otherwise, she would end up killing someone else within Shade’s headquarters compound, and it wouldn’t be in self-defense this time.

It took every bit of her willpower not to storm up to Rowan once again standing at the center of all the activity and celebratory energy, tell him she’d changed her mind, and throw him out onto the street.

It would have made her feel better, absolutely. Acting on that impulse, though, wasn’t an option.

First and foremost, Rowan had just sworn his oath to the organization. Beyond that, giving into the urge would only compromise her position and her leadership abilities by going back on her word as Shade’s commander. Not to mention exposing her personal attachment to Shade’s newest elf.

That personal attachment was the only viable reason for denying Rowan a position within the task force, which he had absolutely earned, but it wasn’t a good enough reason.

After only a few minutes of watching the celebration and all the other members’ excitement and Rowan’s self-important smile through it all, Rebecca had to get out of here.

She turned away from the knot of magicals surging around Rowan Blackmoon and stormed across the common room toward the opposite hallway that would take her to the residential wing. She made it halfway when she noticed Maxwell standing beside her intended exit with several of his security guys around him.

The shifter glared non-stop at Rowan, his arms folded while everyone else in the common room lived it up and enjoyed the moment. In fact, Maxwell looked almost exactly like he had right after Rebecca had successfully completed The Striving and sworn her oath to Shade.

As she approached, though, he didn’t look her way despite that strengthening pull of energy between them, the tingling across Rebecca’s skin, the way the warmth built on itself until she imagined herself stopping beside him and leaning into his body simply because it felt right.

That sensation flared up again with every step, impossible to ignore.

She might have thought he hadn’t noticed her yet if she wasn’t already certain Maxwell felt that same shifting force between them like she did. Maybe not as intensely or as often as she felt it, but he definitely knew it was there.

Her certainty solidified when Maxwell finally pulled his gaze away from Rowan, almost at the last second, and settled it on Rebecca instead.

The second their gazes locked, that surge of dark, electrifying energy—the pull of something inside each of them, tugging constantly at each other—tripled in strength.

Rebecca reeled under the shocking intensity of it and almost stumbled in her path. This… thing between them, whatever it was, had undoubtedly been amplifying over the last week. The longer they were around each other, the stronger that pull and the tingling warmth racing across her body became.

And the harder it was to resist.

None of which helped her now. She had so many other things to focus on besides getting all tingly around a shifter.

Maxwell straightened from where he’d been leaning against the wall, unfolding his arms to let them hang at his sides and watching Rebecca with growing curiosity as she approached.

She wouldn’t have thought she’d given him a reason to look like he’d just been caught with his paw in the henhouse, but her Head of Security straightened his composure and watched her as if he expected to be reprimanded for bad behavior at any moment.

Maybe she’d gotten used to her new role as Thon-Da’al faster than anyone expected, including her.

Instead of avoiding him and everyone else to go hide in her room until she cooled off, Rebecca stepped even further into her new role when she stopped at Maxwell’s side and turned around to face the activity in the common room, her back to the wall. It felt right.

Talking shop with Maxwell while the task force had a little downtime also felt right. If that was where this was going. She didn’t know yet.

Though she gazed blankly across the room, the sensation of Maxwell’s stare on the side of her face made it particularly difficult to focus on the conversation she wanted to have. She pushed herself through it anyway.

“Where are we with confirming that false alarm the day Blackmoon showed up?” she asked.

“Rebecca!” Rowan shouted, his voice capturing her attention against her better judgment. He’d thrust a hand in the air from the center of the crowd partying around him and waved it in her direction. “Come join us! Come on… Commander!”

Rebecca forced herself not to look at him, pretending as if she couldn’t hear the elf man beneath the chaotic buzz of dozens of conversations and laughter and storytelling filling the common room.

Maxwell surprised her by pausing to watch her, as if he expected her to excuse herself so she could speak with Shade’s newest member. When she didn’t, he cleared his throat. “There’s been some chatter. Not too much of a difference from all the speculation that apparently made everyone lose their minds the other night.”

“Oh, come on !” Rowan shouted again, now pushing his way through the gathered celebrants with that gleaming trickster grin of his lighting up the entire room. “No one likes a wallflower. Is this a party, or is it a party ?”

Rebecca kept ignoring him. She had to. Plus, getting the necessary updates from Maxwell to help her stay on top of potential new work for the task force was a far better use of her time. “Just rumors, huh?”

Maxwell dipped his head once in a curt nod, though now the intensity of his gaze on her had faded because he was watching Rowan again. “For now.”

“And how often do these kinds of rumors become something more substantial?”

“More than you’d think,” he muttered.

No, it wasn’t a straight answer, but it gave Rebecca the general feel of things.

It felt like growing rumors in the streets about magical threats and catastrophes came true more often than not.

Rowan finally broke free of the crowd, stopping for pats on the back and jostling handshakes as he passed the outer stragglers.

Still heading for his new commander.

Rebecca performed a slow sweep of the common room, as if she were looking for something specific instead of vehemently avoiding any further interaction with Rowan.

“The second anything new comes in,” she told Maxwell, “I want an update. And when you have a free block of time, we need to talk about another potential…problem still waiting for us out there.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Maxwell turning his head toward her for a better view of her face. She could have sworn she felt him raise an eyebrow, which didn’t make any sense. Imagining the whole thing was far more likely.

“You’re referring to our discovery the night you got the slip on me?” he asked.

The tiniest smile flickered across the corner of Rebecca’s mouth as she avoided both Rowan’s and Maxwell’s gazes now.

Our discovery…

The shifter wanted to take credit for what they’d found within the Old Joliet Prison—all those trafficked magicals held against their will and used to fuel Harkennr’s darkening experiments.

At least he’d admitted Rebecca’s previous success that night in escaping his grasp.

“Yep,” she said. “That’s the one.”

“I have time now.”

She forced a cough to cover up her surprise. If he’d been anyone else saying the same thing in that same alluring tone, she would have assumed he was inviting her to his own private quarters.

Like he couldn’t wait to get her alone somewhere else, and not to discuss the depressing state of wrongly imprisoned magicals inside the Old Joliet Prison.

A hazy mental image overwhelmed her the next second—Maxwell looming over her by at least a foot, his silver eyes flashing, studying her every expression while his hands roamed across her body at will; the strength of that warm, tingling surge of energy bursting through her unwelcome fantasy and her reality now at the same time…

The strength of that vision—or daydream or whatever the hell she wanted to call it—was enough to make her a little woozy before she took a small sideways step away from Maxwell, just for a little breathing room.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to bring her back to herself for now.

Then she realized she still hadn’t responded to his offer.

“I think this kinda thing would do better as more of a private conversation.” Without thinking, she lifted her gaze toward him, wanting to gauge his expression, hoping it was something else besides his perpetual scowl and the darkening frown of suspicion he shot her way at every occasion. Any other expression was preferable.

She caught a flash of his silver eyes in her periphery before an explosion of laughter erupted in the center of the common room—much louder and closer than the rest of the party.

Rebecca and Maxwell both turned their attention that way, where Rowan extricated himself from one more knot of Shade members clustering around him. He grinned and clapped Leonard on the back. Clearly, the good-natured jests and budding camaraderie were already underway.

If only the rest of Shade had known what kind of elf Rowan Blackmoon really was, they wouldn’t have been so easily convinced of how well he was settling in here.

Or of how much they could truly depend on him when the time came.

Then again, Rebecca could have said the same of herself when she’d first arrived on Shade’s doorstep.

But who she’d been that day six months ago wasn’t anything like who she had become since. She cared about this task force and every magical in it. She cared about what happened to them from here on out, and she cared about doing everything in her power to ensure Shade didn’t continue along its previous path and fall into ruin anyway, even with Aldous out of the picture.

Rowan had now crossed three-quarters of the common room toward her, which seemed to have happened all at once, and Rebecca realized how badly she needed to get out of here.

“I’ll be upstairs in the office for the rest of the day,” she told Maxwell, who looked down at her again with another small, confused frown. “Meet me up there when you’re ready, and we’ll talk.”

He looked her briefly up and down and dipped his head. “Thon-Da’al.”

She wished he would stop calling her that when it was just the two of them in private conversation. But they were in a public setting. Of course her Head of security would keep up appearances, if even only for everyone else’s sake.

Rebecca turned away from him to head for the hallway leading to the residential wing. When Rowan called out to her again, and his voice was much closer this time, practically right behind her.

“Come on, Kilda’ari ,” he said through a laugh. “Don’t pretend you haven’t heard me calling for you this whole time.”

Actively keeping her hands open so she wouldn’t clench them into fists and punch the Blackmoon Elf in the face, Rebecca turned around to face him, steeling her thoughts and emotions beneath a mask of apathetic superiority—the same way she’d been holding everyone else in her multitude of lives over the centuries at bay.

It was so much harder with Rowan.

She looked him up and down, blinked as if she still had no idea who he was, and tilted her head. “If you want to get someone’s attention, addressing them correctly is usually the best way to start.”

Rowan barked out a laugh, his grin growing while Maxwell’s returned glower centered exclusively on the elf man.

“All right, fine,” Rowan said, lifting both hands in concession without bothering to veil the mockery behind it. “Does Rebecca still work,? Or is there—”

“It’s Thon-Da’al to you,” Maxwell cut in, his warning growl laced through the undertone of his words.

Rowan’s hazel eyes flickered toward the shifter. “Well that’s different…”

Rebecca didn’t have the energy or the patience to argue with or try to correct either of them. She could barely keep it together just standing here with both of them at the same time. One wrong move, though, and she might blow.

Still, she was more than willing to let Maxwell fulfill his role on her behalf. If her Head of Security could get rid of Rowan and keep him from constantly chasing her down, she wouldn’t be forced into a conversation she really didn’t want to confront.

“Congratulations, Blackmoon,” she said instead, the perfect way to both acknowledge his victory and dismiss him. “We’ll get you into your own living quarters later today. Maxwell will handle setting everything up.”

Before either of them could drag her or into any further conversation, she nodded at Maxwell one final time. “I’ll be in my office.”

He returned the nod and said nothing. Given the current circumstances, she appreciated it far more than usual.

Then she silently excused herself in as callous a way as possible without becoming overly suspicious. That was her only remaining move, for now.

Rowan had to know she was serious about her position in Shade, and Maxwell had to believe nothing more existed between her and Rowan than the fact that they were of the same race.

Letting either of them discuss those topics any further was an exercise in sticking her foot in her mouth. So Rebecca turned toward the branching hallway and took her leave.

Or tried to, anyway.

“Wait just a minute,” Rowan snapped, leaping after her and closing his hand around her upper arm. “You can’t leave yet, Kilda’ari . I still need—”

Maxwell’s furious snarl cut him off, and Rowan instantly released Rebecca’s arm.

When she turned around to let him have it for putting his hands on her, no matter where they were, Maxwell was already on it.

He loomed over Rowan, growling while his silver eyes strobed with warning light. “Not a smart move.”

Rebecca opened her mouth to tell them both they needed to get a hold of themselves but didn’t get the chance.

Maxwell had already stepped in front of her, placing himself between her and Rowan and further shielding her when he lifted an arm to stop her from moving forward again. As if he thought that would shield her from everything else he didn’t want to touch her.

Rowan scoffed. “What in the Blue Hells do you think you’re doing?”

“My job.” Maxwell didn’t approach any further for a standoff, but somehow, he managed an air of impending danger and threat without physically moving closer. They were around the same height anyway, which Rebecca only now noticed for the first time.

“Just because you made it through The Striving doesn’t give you access to whatever you want,” Maxwell snarled.

“You mean the access you seem to have?” Rowan quipped. “Let me tell you something, shifter. Whatever you think you have, I can promise you it’s not enough to fall back on.”

Those words tore Rebecca’s gaze away from the edge of Maxwell’s arm extended in front of her torso—presumably to keep her safely tucked behind it—because it sounded too much like Rowan was about to reveal more secrets during this pointless pissing contest.

Secrets that weren’t his to reveal.

“You keep your hands to yourself, elf,” Maxwell growled. “You get one warning before I start ripping them off.”

“What?” Rowan’s eyes widened, the amusement gleaming within their hazel irises before he burst out laughing.

Maxwell wasn’t amused.

Rebecca wasn’t, either, but at least Rowan hadn’t started spilling his guts about her the way she’d thought he might. This whole thing was getting too ridiculous.

She appreciated Maxwell’s aggressive bodyguard style, probably for the first time that she could remember, but he still took the whole thing way too far. Now she just wanted him to put his stupid arm down.

“Oh, that’s too good !” Rowan wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye. “This whole act you’ve got going on, threatening to rip people’s arms off if they don’t do what you say? Are you kidding? Does this actually work?”

“You clearly don’t understand the difference between a warning and a threat,” Maxwell said.

Rowan’s laughing smile froze. While the expression remained, a hard coldness solidified in his eyes as he glared back at the shifter. “And I suppose you think you do.”

The air crackled with the tension between them, and Rebecca still wanted nothing to do with it. She had a feeling, though, that if she let these two square off like this any longer, something would burst wide open—whether it was secrets, or tempers, or skulls, maybe even all three.

“That’s enough,” she interjected, her voice held steady by her growing irritation when Rowan smirked like he’d just won something. “Both of you.”

Maxwell didn’t look at her when he lowered his arm and took a small step to the side, though she detected a hint of embarrassment along the edges of his scowl still firmly centered on Rowan’s face.

“Excellent. Thank you.” Rowan broke his staring contest with the shifter and swiveled his gaze onto Rebecca next. “Now, you told me we could talk after this whole oath-swearing business. So if I could just have a few minutes of your time—”

“You’ll get your opportunity once things settle down around here,” she said. “But I have larger priorities at the moment.”

He scoffed. “Like what?”

She had to ignore him before turning toward Maxwell, hating what she was about to say but recognizing it as the current best option if she wanted to keep a handle on her sanity. Maybe even the only option.

“For now, I think I’ll be taking my meals in the office until further notice.”

Maxwell started to nod, then froze with a flutter of his eyelids. That momentary confusion in his expression lasted no longer than a second before he expertly concealed it again and clearly remembered how he wanted to respond.

With another dip of his head, Maxwell searched her gaze. “I’ll bring your meal up myself.”

“Thanks.”

Without sparing Rowan another glance, as if he were nothing more than a footnote to her day, Rebecca spun away from them both and marched out of the common room and down the hall.

This one would have led her straight back to the residential wing and her own private room a few doors down from Zida’s infirmary. But now her own room was off-limits for the moment, and she had to take the scenic route.

Maxwell’s surprise at her decision to take meals in the commander’s office on the second floor was the reaction she’d expected from him. She’d had the same reaction herself. Part of her couldn’t believe she’d caved and given that command.

When she’d realized only a few days ago that her position as Shade’s new commander was a permanent one, with no chance of slipping her way out of it, she’d promised herself she would be the exact opposite of Aldous Corriger.

That in and of itself was a decent start for any new commander and their chosen leadership policy. Not once had she considered taking meals in the office, removed from the rest of the task force for privacy. That was something Aldous had already been doing when she’d arrived.

Despite actively striving to be a better commander than the changeling—and he’d set the bar exceptionally low—she started to feel more like Aldous with every surprising new decision.

If she kept getting herself cornered into these tight situations that were nearly impossible to navigate, like trying to stay away from Rowan without raising the alarm about so many other things she had to keep hidden from the world, Rebecca might end up more like the changeling she’d overthrown than she could afford.

The biggest problem there was learning to discern between the decisions that made her rise above Aldous’s vast shortcomings and crippling mistakes, and those that made her just like him.

But the time she had to figure it out was already dwindling.