The rejection should have severed the bond.
That's what the old stories said. That's what every elder whispered. But as I stormed out of the gathering hall, my chest still throbbed with that cursed thread tying me to him.
The night air hit my face, sharp and cold, but it wasn't enough to cool the fire inside me.
My wolf whimpered, restless, aching for something I refused to give.
Footsteps followed. Heavy. Unhurried. A
Alpha footsteps.
I didn't need to turn around to know.
"Raven," Ronan's voice rolled through the darkness, smooth yet edged like a blade.
I spun on him, claws unsheathing. "Don't you dare speak my name."
He stopped a few feet away, the moonlight painting his features in sharp silver and shadow. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… gods, those eyes. They burned with a possession I couldn't shake, even when I wanted to claw them out.
" You humiliated me in front of my entire pack," I spat. "Isn't that enough? Or do you want me to kneel too?"
His lips curved into the faintest smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You think denying me will make this easier? For either of us?"
I laughed, bitter and sharp. "Easier? You killed my father, Ronan. My blood should be your curse, not your claim."
For the first time, his jaw tightened. A muscle flickered in his cheek. He didn't deny it. He didn't even flinch.
The silence stretched, heavy, unbearable.
My heart pounded against my ribs, part rage, part… something I refused to name.
"Say it," I pushed, voice breaking. "Say you ended him. Say it so I can carve the truth into my bones."
Ronan stepped closer, his aura pressing against me, crushing, suffocating. My knees trembled, my wolf desperate to bow. I fought it, grinding my teeth until my jaw ached.
"I did what had to be done," he said finally, his voice low, unyielding.
The words sliced through me like claws. My father's death wasn't an accident. It wasn't fate. It was Ronan's choice.
"You monster."
His eyes narrowed, silver fire flashing. "Call me what you want. Hate me if it keeps you breathing. But know this, Raven—your father's blood is not the only one on my hands. And if I hadn't acted, it would have been yours spilled on that soil."
The confession staggered me. For a moment, doubt flickered. He was lying. He had to be.
"You expect me to believe you killed him to protect me?" I hissed.
"I expect nothing from you," he growled, stepping so close his heat scorched me.
"But the bond expects everything. You can reject me until your throat bleeds, but you'll still feel it—the pull, the fire, the need. And it will drive you mad long before it lets you go."
My breath caught. His scent wrapped around me, dark cedar and smoke, sinking into my skin. My wolf whimpered again, pressing forward, begging me to close the distance.
I shoved at his chest, desperate for space.
" Stay away from me."
But he caught my wrist mid-swing, his grip firm, burning. He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of my ear, his voice a dangerous whisper.
"I don't stay away from what's mine."
The bond pulsed hard, sending a wave of heat down my spine. I hated myself for the way my body betrayed me, for the way my breath stuttered against his touch.
"I'd rather die than submit," I forced out, even as my pulse thundered.
Ronan released me suddenly, stepping back with a sharpness that left the air colder. His eyes lingered, unreadable, before he turned toward the dark forest.
"Then you'd better learn how to survive death, little wolf," he said without looking back. "Because I don't intend to let you go."
And then he vanished into the shadows, leaving me trembling, breathless, torn between rage and the dangerous truth I couldn't escape:
Hating Ronan Duskbane might destroy me faster than loving him ever could.