Raven's POV
By midday, the pack's whispers had become daggers.
Everywhere I turned, their eyes followed.
Conversations cut off when I entered a room. Laughter turned sharp, edged with curiosity. The rogues might have been clawing at our borders, but here in camp, I was the wildfire they couldn't look away from.
He asked you to deny it, my wolf snarled. And you couldn't. You know why.
I ignored her, clutching the strap of my satchel as I walked toward the healer's tent. Focus. That was all I needed. Focus and distance.
But Elara caught up to me, her arm hooking through mine like an anchor. "You've seen the way they're staring, right? You're practically the pack's bedtime story now."
I groaned. "Not helping."
"Oh, I'm very helpful," she said lightly, though her eyes were serious. "But Raven, you can't keep pretending this doesn't exist. Everyone feels it. The air practically shudders when you and Ronan look at each other."
"I don't want it." My voice cracked despite the steel I tried to forge into it.
Her brows lifted. "Don't you? Because from where I'm standing, your wolf's ready to tear down the walls you've built."
I stopped, squeezing my eyes shut. She's right. My wolf pushed harder every day, furious with my restraint, with my fear.
But fear was safer. Fear meant survival.
I forced myself to move again, though the weight in my chest didn't lift. "It doesn't matter what I want. I won't be swallowed by this bond."
Elara sighed, squeezing my hand before letting me go. "Be careful, Raven. Because the more you fight it, the harder it'll hurt when it finally breaks through."
Her words lingered long after I left her behind.
Ronan's POV
I should have been reviewing patrol reports, strategizing against rogue movements, commanding my warriors with the precision of an Alpha.
Instead, I paced my cabin like a caged beast.
Her rejection still burned in my veins. She hadn't denied me outright, but she hadn't claimed me either. In front of the pack, she'd left me hanging on a knife's edge, every wolf watching as if waiting to see whether their Alpha would shatter.
Claim her, my wolf demanded, a guttural snarl vibrating through me. She is ours. End this game.
I gripped the edge of the table, wood cracking beneath my fingers. "She asked for boundaries."
Boundaries are chains. Break them.
"I can't force her." The words tasted like ash, but they were truth. "If I do, I lose her."
The wolf raged, clawing at the inside of my chest, furious at my restraint. But beneath the fury was something else—pain. The bond ached like a wound that would not heal, pulling me toward her no matter how far she tried to run.
I remembered the look on her face when Lyra stood too close, the way her eyes had flickered with hurt before she buried it. That flash of emotion kept me alive, kept me fighting. Because it meant she felt something too, even if she wouldn't admit it.
I slammed my palm against the table, splinters flying. The pack would whisper, they would gossip, but I didn't care. What I couldn't stand was her silence. Her distance.
One way or another, I would break through her walls. Not with force, not with dominance—but with truth.
Because Raven wasn't just my desire. She was my bond. My fire. My undoing.
And I would not stop until she admitted the same.