The night stretched long, but sleep was far from Ronan's reach. He sat at the edge of his desk, staring at the maps spread before him, though none of the lines or markings made sense. His thoughts kept circling back to Raven—the feel of her trembling in his arms, the fire of her lips, the way her eyes burned with fear and longing in equal measure.
He dragged a hand through his hair and cursed under his breath. He was Alpha. He should be focused on rogues, strategies, alliances. Not on a woman who fled from him the moment his walls cracked.
A quiet knock came at the door.
"Enter," he said, voice clipped.
Darius stepped in, arms crossed, a knowing look on his face. "Still awake?"
"Clearly," Ronan muttered.
Darius leaned against the wall, studying him for a moment. "You've been pacing and brooding since she ran. It's unlike you, Alpha. Normally, when you want something, you take it."
Ronan's jaw clenched. "This isn't something I can simply take."
"Isn't it?" Darius tilted his head. "You're letting her slip because you're afraid of breaking her. But maybe… maybe what she needs is to be pushed."
Ronan's eyes narrowed. "Pushed how?"
Darius smirked. "Make her jealous. Force her to face what she feels for you. She hides behind fear and excuses, but jealousy?" He gave a low chuckle. "That kind of emotion is impossible to disguise."
Ronan considered it, the idea dark and tempting. But it felt wrong somehow—using another woman as bait. His silence must have betrayed him because Darius added quickly, "Not Elara. That would only make things worse. Someone else. Someone who understands it's just a game."
Before Ronan could reply, another knock echoed. This one lighter, more playful.
"Come in," Ronan called, his tone guarded.
The door opened and in swept Lyra, daughter of an allied Alpha and sister to Ronan's long-time friend. She was striking—tall and graceful, with dark hair cascading like ink, eyes that sparkled with wit. She carried herself like royalty, every step deliberate, every smile edged with amusement.
"Still brooding, Ronan?" she teased, closing the door behind her. "Darius said our fearless Alpha has been undone by a woman. I had to see it with my own eyes."
Ronan shot his Beta a glare. Darius only shrugged, unrepentant.
"I don't have time for games, Lyra," Ronan muttered.
Lyra arched a brow, her lips curving. "From the looks of it, games are exactly what you need." She crossed the room, her eyes sharp as they scanned him. "So, it's true then? The infamous Raven has you pacing like a restless wolf."
He growled low in his throat. "Careful."
But Lyra only laughed softly. "Relax, Alpha. I'm not here to steal your heart. I'm here because I think I can help you win hers."
Ronan studied her, uncertain of her angle. Lyra was many things—confident, clever, sometimes infuriating—but she was loyal to those she trusted. If she said she wanted to help, it wasn't out of malice.
"What exactly did you have in mind?" Ronan asked finally.
Lyra exchanged a glance with Darius, then leaned against the desk, far too comfortable in his space. "Simple. Let her see you with me. Nothing scandalous. Just enough closeness to unsettle her. A hand at my back, a laugh shared between us, a whisper she can't quite catch. The kind of things that will have her blood boiling before she even realizes why."
Ronan's wolf stirred at the thought, a dark satisfaction humming through him. He could already picture it—Raven's eyes flashing, her pulse quickening, her composure shattering as jealousy tore through her walls.
But his human side hesitated. "And if it backfires? If she pulls away further?"
Lyra's smile softened. "Raven isn't blind, Ronan. She feels the bond as much as you do, no matter how she denies it. Seeing you with someone else won't push her away—it will force her to face what's already burning inside her."
Darius chimed in, smirking. "Besides, if Raven really didn't care, she wouldn't have fled tonight. She ran because she felt too much, not too little."
Ronan exhaled slowly, running his tongue across his teeth. It was risky, but he could see the truth in their words. He'd been patient, too patient, waiting for Raven to surrender willingly. Maybe it was time to stop waiting.
"Very well," Ronan said at last, his voice low and resolute. "We'll play this game. But it will be on my terms. No lies. No promises that don't exist. Just enough to break her denial."
Lyra's eyes gleamed, her expression somewhere between playful and fierce.
"Then consider me your accomplice."
For the first time that night, Ronan allowed the ghost of a smirk to touch his lips. He leaned back in his chair, a dangerous calm settling over him.
"If Raven insists on running from the bond," he murmured, "then let her run straight into the fire of her own jealousy. She'll learn soon enough that she can't escape me."
Darius chuckled, shaking his head. "Gods help us all. The game begins."
And as the moonlight poured across the room, Ronan's vow hardened into steel.
If Raven wanted to pretend indifference, he'd strip her of it. If she wanted to deny the bond, he'd make her burn with it.
Either way, she would come to him.
And this time, she wouldn't run.