The air was heavy with unease after the rogue attack. Patrols doubled, scouts sent further into the borders, every warrior restless with the knowledge that this wasn't a single strike but a test. Something larger was coming.
I tried to drown myself in training, but even that couldn't silence the whispers in my head—or the constant pull of Ronan's gaze whenever we crossed paths.
Which was why, when the news spread through the pack like wildfire, my wolf's ears perked instantly.
"She's here. His closest friend. Came all the way from the North Pack."
I hadn't meant to care, but my feet carried me to the courtyard anyway. The scene stopped me cold.
She was breathtaking.
Tall and elegant, with raven-dark hair tumbling in waves down her back, eyes the piercing green of new leaves. Her frame was wrapped in leather armor that hugged curves I couldn't help but notice. She moved like she belonged here, like every stone beneath her boots recognized her.
And she walked straight into Ronan's arms.
My chest tightened as I watched him embrace her. Not a fleeting hug of formality, but one of old familiarity, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. The pack around them murmured with warmth, clearly used to this bond.
My wolf growled low in my mind. Too close.
I clenched my jaw. It wasn't my business. I had made that clear, hadn't I? I had pushed him away, demanded distance. So why did the sight of her touching him feel like claws dragging across my skin?
"Selene," I muttered, finding her beside me.
"Who is she?"
Selene gave me a sideways glance, lips twitching. "That's Lyra. Daughter of the Northern Alpha. Ronan's… best friend. Some say more, though he never claimed her."
The words slammed into me like a blow. My chest burned, though I forced my face into indifference. "Best friend," I echoed flatly.
Selene smirked knowingly. "Careful, Raven. Wolves don't take kindly to jealousy they won't admit."
"I'm not jealous," I hissed, but even to my ears it sounded weak.
I should have left. Should have turned away and buried myself in training drills. But I stayed.
Lyra clung to Ronan's arm as they walked through the courtyard, her laughter bright and effortless. She leaned close, whispering something that drew a rare, fleeting smile from him. Not the dangerous smirk he reserved for me. A real smile.
And it gutted me.
I forced my gaze elsewhere, only to feel her eyes meet mine. Lyra's smile didn't falter, but her gaze sharpened. Assessing.
Calculating.
Like she knew exactly who I was.
And exactly what I wasn't ready to admit.
Later, in the dining hall, I sat at my usual spot beside Selene, determined to ignore them. But of course, they entered together.
Lyra's arm brushed Ronan's as she walked, her voice carrying like music through the room. She greeted warriors by name, clearly remembered, clearly beloved. She sat beside him without hesitation, sliding close enough that her thigh pressed against his.
My fork snapped in half between my fingers.
Selene raised her brows. "Not jealous, hmm?"
I shot her a glare sharp enough to cut steel, but it didn't stop the knot in my stomach from twisting tighter.
Through it all, Ronan said little. He listened to Lyra, nodded occasionally, but his eyes—those damn eyes—kept finding me across the table.
I shoved food into my mouth and refused to meet his gaze.
That evening, I found myself walking the edge of the training grounds, hoping to burn off the fire in my veins. But fate, as always, had other plans.
"Raven, isn't it?"
I turned. Lyra stood there, the moonlight painting her features in sharp beauty. She crossed her arms, her confidence coiling like a whip.
"Yes," I said curtly.
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I've heard a lot about you."
I arched a brow. "Funny. I haven't heard much about you."
Her laugh was low, rich, practiced. "Oh, I imagine you haven't. But Ronan and I go way back. We've fought together, bled together. He's more than a friend. He's family to me." She stepped closer, her presence pressing like a challenge. "And I take care of what's mine."
My wolf snarled inside me. She dares—
I kept my face calm, cold. "Good. Then you can keep him occupied. Saves me the trouble."
Her smile widened, sharp as a blade. "Mm. But the way you look at him says otherwise."
Heat flared in my cheeks, fury tightening my throat. I wanted to deny it, to tear her words apart, but the bond betrayed me. My heart raced, my pulse quickened, and Lyra's knowing smirk told me she saw it all.
"Stay out of my way," I said, my voice low with warning.
Her eyes glittered. "As long as you remember he was mine first."
I stormed away, every step fueled by rage I couldn't place. Rage at her. Rage at Ronan. Rage at myself.
Because beneath it all, buried under layers of denial, one truth clawed free:
I didn't want him to be hers.
And that terrified me more than anything.