Chapter 270: Rowan’s Story

Words : 1158 Updated : Oct 5th, 2025

Evaline:Rowan’s silence was deafening. He was sitting stiffly in the chair beside me, his hands gripping the armrests as though they were the only things keeping him grounded. His shoulders were tense, the lines of his jaw tight, and though he didn’t say anything, I could feel the storm raging inside him. It was Friday afternoon, and Oscar’s office was carrying a particular calm heaviness, as though the walls themselves knew that secrets were meant to be shared here. Oscar was outside in the hallway, still talking with Instructor Corey. That left just Rowan and me inside, waiting. I stole a glance at him. His hair was a little messy, strands falling over his forehead, and his skin was slightly paler compared to usual, but it had nothing to do with the injuries from previous night or the cold. He was tense, and just seeing him like this was making something tighten inside me. I still hadn’t asked him where he went last night, how he got hurt so badly, or why he was pushing himself to this extent. He was already wound tight as a bowstring, I didn’t want to add another weight to his chest. So instead, I whispered softly, "Trust Oscar. Tell him everything truthfully, Rowan." For a moment, his throat bobbed as if he wanted to protest, but he said nothing. I reached over and gave his hand a light squeeze, hoping he could feel the silent promise in it - that he wasn’t alone, that I was right here. To my relief, he gave me a small, genuine smile. It was faint, but it was real, and that was enough to make my own chest loosen just a little. The door opened then, and Oscar finally stepped inside. He closed it carefully, locked it with a soft click, and moved across the room. His presence alone was grounding - steady, calm, unshaken. He gave me one of those warm smiles he always reserved just for me, one that made me feel like everything would be okay, before he turned his attention fully to Rowan as he settled in his chair. Rowan shifted in his seat, his posture tense all over again. "Rowan," Oscar said, his tone even, yet there was an unmistakable weight in his words. "Why have you been sneaking out of the Academy?" The question landed like a stone in the silence. Rowan froze. His lips parted but no words came out. Oscar didn’t let the silence stretch too long. He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over the desk. "And why did you end up injured like that? Not just a scrape or bruise, but serious injuries. What exactly have you been doing out there?" Rowan’s gaze flickered immediately to me, searching my face. I met his eyes and gave him the smallest of nods. I could see the fear in him - the fear of judgment, of rejection, of consequences - but I wanted him to see my trust. My encouragement. Finally, he exhaled a shaky breath and started speaking. "I... don’t have a family," he said quietly. His voice carried the weight of old wounds. "My parents died when I was seven. I have no siblings. I grew up in the Rogue community." I stared at his side profile, my eyes widening in shock. This was the first time I was hearing any of this. He never talked about himself, never opened up about his past. "I had a close friend," he continued, his fists curling in his lap. "She was everything to me. But... she got into an accident. She’s been in a coma for almost a year now." His throat worked as he swallowed hard. "The hospital bills keep piling up. I couldn’t just watch her waste away. So... I started fighting." My breath hitched. "Fighting?" "In the underground fights," he admitted, his eyes dropping. "I have been sneaking out to take part. The money’s fast, but the fights are brutal. Last night’s injuries..." He gave a humorless laugh. "I won all three fights. That’s why I’m still in one piece." I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Underground fights? Risking his life night after night just to pay hospital bills? My chest ached. I lifted my hand and gently touched his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone in this. I turned my gaze to Oscar then. He had been silent through all of this, listening carefully, while keeping his expression unreadable. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm - steady, like a judge who had already weighed every side. "Rowan," Oscar began, "sneaking out is against Academy rules. And the underground fights you have been participating in..." He paused, his gaze firm. "They are not only illegal, but they go against the werewolf community’s laws. You are fighting in human cities, against humans, while you are a werewolf. Do you understand how serious that is?" Rowan flinched, his fists tightening. "I don’t care about rules. I need the money. If I stop, she dies. I can give up my place here at the Academy, but I can’t give up the fights. I can’t give up on her." His voice cracked at the end, filled with raw desperation. But Oscar didn’t waver. He leaned forward, his tone sharper, though still not unkind. "If you continue these fights, you won’t just lose your place here. You’ll be branded a criminal in the eyes of the werewolf community. You’ll lose your future entirely, Rowan. And as a criminal, you won’t be able to support her either. Do you want that?" Rowan clenched his jaw, breathing harshly. I could see the conflict in his eyes - his worry for his friend clashing with the danger of everything Oscar was saying. Before he could speak again, Oscar held up a hand to stop him. "I have another option for you," he said. Rowan blinked. "What?" Oscar’s gaze softened slightly. "A legal job. One that will pay you enough to cover her bills, without breaking rules, without risking your life, and without endangering your future." Both Rowan and I stared at him in shock. "You would... do that?" Rowan asked, his voice almost disbelieving. Oscar nodded firmly. "Yes. Because you are a good student. You have potential that shouldn’t be wasted in underground fights. It would be the Academy’s loss to let you go." Rowan blinked rapidly, clearly overwhelmed. "But... you would really help me like that?" "How much are the hospital bills?" Oscar asked, straightforward. Rowan hesitated, then gave him the figure. Oscar leaned back, thoughtful, before nodding to himself. "I might have the perfect job for you." The silence that followed was thick, but it wasn’t heavy. It was full of possibility. I squeezed Rowan’s shoulder again, smiling softly at him. And for the first time since last night, I saw hope flicker in his eyes.

Chapter 270: Rowan’s Story

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