Raven's lips still tingled, swollen and burning from the taste of Ronan. Her body trembled, traitorous, as she pressed her palms against his chest to steady herself. His scent—dark cedar, musk, and power—wrapped around her, threatening to drag her back into the very fire she had just escaped.
Her mind screamed No. This can't happen.
Yet her heart thundered with a dangerous rhythm that betrayed how badly she wanted to let go.
"Raven…" Ronan's voice was husky, thick with a hunger he no longer tried to hide. His hands lingered at her waist, unwilling to release her. His blue eyes bore into hers, searing, demanding answers.
She parted her lips to speak—to say something, anything, to save herself from drowning in him again—but the door to Ronan's quarters burst open with a sharp crack.
"Ronan!"
The voice was sharp. Feminine. And filled with disbelief.
Both Raven and Ronan froze.
Elara stood in the doorway, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders like a curtain of sunlight, her eyes flashing with fury and hurt as they swept over Raven. Her gaze dropped to the way Ronan's hands still rested possessively on Raven's waist, and the silence that followed was heavy enough to suffocate.
"What… what is this?" Elara's voice was trembling, but her posture was rigid. Her fists clenched at her sides as though she were barely containing herself.
Raven's stomach dropped. Shame clawed up her throat. She shoved Ronan's hands off her and took a quick step back, putting as much distance as she could between them.
"It's not—" Raven began, but her voice cracked. She couldn't even form the lie.
Elara let out a sharp, bitter laugh, cutting her off. "Not what it looks like? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you've been throwing yourself into Ronan's arms the moment danger strikes."
"Elara." Ronan's tone was sharp, commanding, but she ignored him.
Her eyes burned holes into Raven, her words dripping with venom. "Is this why you're really here, Raven? Not because of some destiny. Not because of the pack's safety. But because you can't resist him?"
Heat flared across Raven's cheeks, anger mixing with humiliation. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I know exactly what I see," Elara spat, stepping further into the room. "You're nothing but a complication. You waltz in here, carrying your secrets, dragging rogues in your shadow, and now—now you dare try to seduce him like some cheap distraction."
"Elara, enough." Ronan's voice was a low growl this time. His Alpha power laced through the air, enough to make even Raven's knees buckle. But Elara stood her ground, her chin raised defiantly.
"No, Ronan." Her voice cracked, and for the first time, it wasn't anger that laced her tone—it was hurt. "I've stood by you through everything. I've fought for you, bled for this pack, for you. And now I find her—" she gestured at Raven with shaking hands "—in your arms, as if she belongs there?"
Ronan's chest rose and fell sharply, his jaw tightening. He turned his gaze to Raven, but she couldn't look at him. Not with Elara's words echoing in her ears.
Belong there.
The truth was, for a fleeting moment, it had felt exactly like that—like she belonged. And that was the problem.
Raven's throat burned as she forced herself to meet Elara's glare. "You think I want this?" Her voice was hoarse, ragged. "Do you think I asked for this bond? For him? For any of it?"
Elara's eyes narrowed. "Then stop giving him what isn't yours to give."
The words sliced deeper than Raven expected. She felt her chest tighten painfully, breath catching in her throat. She wanted to scream, to lash back, but the weight of guilt pressed down on her like chains.
Ronan finally stepped forward, his voice calm but dangerous. "Elara, leave."
Elara's lips parted, shocked. "You're defending her?"
"I'm not defending anyone," he snapped.
"But you don't get to storm into my quarters and disrespect my decisions."
For a moment, Elara looked like she'd been struck. The fury in her eyes wavered, replaced with something far more fragile.
Then, with a trembling inhale, she straightened, her mask sliding back into place.
"Fine." She turned on her heel, but not before shooting Raven one last, scalding glare. "But don't say I didn't warn you. She'll ruin you, Ronan. Just like she ruins everything."
The door slammed shut behind her.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Raven's chest heaved, her pulse a storm in her veins. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The weight of Elara's words pressed hard against her chest, suffocating.
She turned, her voice barely a whisper.
"This… this was a mistake."
Ronan's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "Raven—"
"No." She stepped back again, hugging herself tightly. Her voice cracked, betraying the storm raging inside her. "Stay away from me, Ronan. I mean it this time. Stay away."
Before he could stop her, Raven fled, slamming the door behind her, her footsteps echoing down the corridor like the sound of a heart shattering.
Ronan remained standing there, fists clenched, his chest heaving with fury and frustration. The wolf inside him clawed violently at the walls of his control, howling one truth he couldn't escape.
She was his.
And no amount of running would ever change that.