The firelight in the training grounds had almost died, but I stayed long after the others retreated to their beds. The night air carried the damp scent of earth, of pine, of her. Raven.
Her voice lingered in my head, sharp and cold as the edge of a blade: Stay away. Watch your boundaries.
I clenched my fists, staring at the black wolf that paced inside me. He hated boundaries.
He wanted her—claimed her as ours the second her scent tangled with our lungs. But she was human enough to resist, stubborn enough to shove me away when the heat between us roared too bright.
I should have respected that. Should have walked off and buried myself in duty, in reports of rogue sightings, in anything that wasn't the curve of her lips or the fire in her eyes.
But I couldn't.
"Still awake?" Lyra's voice broke the silence, smooth and familiar, like silk stretched over glass.
I didn't turn immediately. My jaw locked as she approached, her heels clicking against stone. She always carried herself like the perfect Alpha's mate, regal and unyielding, as though my pack had already chosen her.
"They say the rogues grow bolder," she continued, tilting her head, letting her long dark hair fall down her shoulders. "And yet here you are, alone. Vulnerable."
I finally looked at her. "I am never vulnerable, Lyra."
Her smile curved, knowing, taunting. "Not physically, no. But emotionally? Perhaps."
The implication was clear. She had seen me with Raven. The pack whispered faster than wildfire; it was only a matter of time before rumors reached even the farthest outpost.
"You should rest," I said, brushing past her.
But she stepped closer, her hand brushing against my arm, nails grazing my skin as if testing the strength beneath. "Ronan," she whispered, "you know I'm the logical choice.
You need a Luna who understands power, who was raised to lead. Not some fragile—"
I growled before I could stop myself. "Do not finish that sentence."
Her eyes flashed, satisfaction glimmering beneath the veneer of shock. She'd struck the nerve she wanted. She knew Raven mattered.
"Why deny it?" Lyra pressed, lowering her voice. "You ache for her, but she pushes you away. What kind of Luna refuses her Alpha?
What kind of bond is built on rejection?"
I hated her words because they cut too close to truth. Raven had rejected me tonight.
Pushed me back when our bodies burned for more. Her boundaries were iron, and I was supposed to respect them. But inside, my wolf raged, clawing to rip the distance apart.
Before I could respond, I caught it—her scent. Sweet, fierce, unmistakable. Raven was near.
And then she stepped into the clearing, moonlight gilding her long hair, eyes wide as they found me standing too close to Lyra.
The world shifted.
I saw the flicker in her gaze—hurt, anger, something deeper she would never admit. She masked it quickly, shoulders squaring, voice steady. "I didn't realize I was interrupting."
"Raven—" I started, but she raised a hand.
"No need to explain. Your… friend has already said enough."
Lyra smirked behind her, but I barely noticed. Every muscle in me strained toward Raven, to close the distance, to pull her into me and erase the look on her face.
But she turned, walking away with measured steps, as if each one didn't shatter me more.
I moved. Fast.
"Raven!" My hand caught her wrist before she could escape into the shadows.
She froze, her pulse racing beneath my touch. "Let me go, Ronan."
"No," I said, harsher than intended. I softened, lowering my voice. "Not until you hear me."
Her eyes flicked to where my hand held hers, then back to mine. The conflict in her expression mirrored my own—desire battling reason, longing warred against pride.
"She doesn't matter," I said, throwing a glance back at Lyra, who stood with her arms crossed, seething. "You do. Only you."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, but her words were steel. "And yet you let her stand so close. You let her touch you."
"She means nothing." I stepped closer, pulling her against my chest. Her breath caught, sharp and unsteady, and it was all I could do not to claim her mouth right there.
"But you—gods, Raven, you undo me."
Her lips parted, a tremor running through her, but then her walls slammed back into place. She shoved me hard in the chest, breaking free.
"This isn't supposed to happen," she whispered, voice breaking. "We're supposed to be Alpha and pack, nothing more. I can't—"
"You can," I cut in, my voice rough. "And you feel it. Deny me with words all you want, but your body—your wolf—already knows who we are."
Her eyes glistened, but she stepped back, retreating into the night. "Stay away, Ronan. If you care about me at all, respect that."
The space between us grew, each step she took tearing at my control.
Behind me, Lyra's voice was cool, almost triumphant. "You see? She will never accept you."
I didn't turn to her. My wolf snarled inside, furious, desperate, and aching for the girl disappearing into the trees.
"Leave me, Lyra," I commanded.
When she finally walked off, I was left in the silence of my own torment. The night pressed in, heavy with the scent of Raven fading into the distance.
And for the first time in years, I—the Alpha who feared nothing—felt powerless.
But powerless or not, I knew one thing: I would never stay away.