(Ronan's POV)
The next morning, the pack grounds were humming with activity — warriors training, messengers running errands, and the scent of morning dew mixed with freshly turned earth. But Ronan's mind wasn't on any of that.
He stood near the training field, watching Raven from a distance as she barked orders at a few younger wolves. Her tone was sharp, commanding, but her movements carried a quiet stiffness. She was avoiding him — pretending she didn't feel his eyes on her.
Typical Raven.
He smirked to himself, though the twist in his chest wasn't as light as he wanted it to be.
"Are you sure about this?" came a voice beside him. It was Kellan, his Beta, eyeing him with faint amusement. "You know this could backfire."
Ronan's lips curved into a half smile. "That's the point. I want to see her react."
"She's already reacting," Kellan said, folding his arms. "She's avoiding you like the plague."
"That's not reaction," Ronan muttered, his eyes still fixed on her. "That's control. And I want to break it."
Before Kellan could respond, Lyra appeared — her golden-brown hair tied in a loose braid, her eyes glinting with mischief. "You two look like you're plotting to overthrow someone," she teased lightly, stepping between them.
Ronan gave her a wry smile. "You're here right on time."
Lyra tilted her head, her wolfish grin matching his energy. "So, what's the plan, Alpha? Do I just make her jealous, or do we go full performance?"
"Make it look real," he said simply.
Lyra raised a brow. "You sound like you've done this before."
He ignored the jab and turned his attention back to Raven. She was walking off the field now, a towel slung around her neck, her tank top sticking to her skin from sweat. The sight alone made his throat tighten.
Lyra followed his gaze, then chuckled softly.
"You're in deep, aren't you?"
"Just focus," Ronan muttered, his jaw tightening.
The plan was simple — he'd spend more time with Lyra in public, make it look casual but close. Enough to stir Raven's instincts, to push her walls until she felt something, even if it was anger. Because any emotion was better than that icy distance she'd been giving him.
A few minutes later, Raven walked toward them, completely unaware of what was coming. Her eyes flicked over a girl
first — polite, controlled — then to Ronan.
But when she noticed how close she stood beside him, something in her gaze flickered.
Ronan caught it.
That flash of emotion she tried to bury.
He almost smiled.
"Morning, Raven," Lyra greeted with a friendly smile, her hand brushing Ronan's arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I was just telling Ronan how impressive your warriors are. You've trained them well."
"You are? ," Raven replied evenly, though her voice was clipped. "We take pride in discipline here."
Lyra's hand stayed on his arm. "OH my bad, I'm Lyra, RONANS number one best friend before that weirdo."
Ronan felt the air between them shift.
"Nice meeting you", Raven's expression didn't change much, but her scent did — a faint spike of irritation mixed with something darker.
He leaned a little closer to Lyra, keeping his tone deliberately smooth. "You should join us for training later," he said, loud enough for Raven to hear. "Lyra's got a good eye for combat techniques."
"I might," Lyra replied, smiling up at him.
Raven's jaw clenched. She gave a curt nod and turned away. "If you'll excuse me, I have things to attend to."
He watched her leave, that familiar mix of guilt and satisfaction burning inside him.
Lyra whistled under her breath. "Well… that worked faster than expected."
"Yeah," he muttered, watching Raven's retreating figure. "But it didn't feel as good as I thought it would."
Kellan snorted. "No kidding. You looked like you were about to punch yourself for smiling."
Ronan ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "She needs to admit how she feels. That's all."
"Maybe," Kellan said quietly. "Or maybe you just want to prove she feels the same way you do."
Ronan didn't answer. Because deep down, Kellan was right.
He wasn't doing this just to get a reaction — he wanted confirmation. Proof that the connection between them wasn't one-sided.
That he wasn't losing his mind over someone who refused to even look at him.
Later that afternoon, he spotted Raven again by the gardens, talking to one of the healers. The sunlight caught her hair, and her expression was softer now — thoughtful.
When she looked up and saw him standing beside Lyra again, her smile vanished.
Good, he thought. Feel something.
But the look she gave him wasn't just irritation — it was hurt.
And for a moment, that guilt returned, sharper this time. He hadn't wanted to hurt her. Just shake her, wake her up to what was between them.
Then, to his surprise, she turned abruptly and walked straight toward them.
Lyra stepped back slightly, sensing the change in air.
"Enjoying yourself?" Raven asked coolly, her eyes locked on his.
Ronan smirked, masking the sudden rush of heat. "Just catching up with an old friend."
"Good for you," she said tightly, then turned to Lyra with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I hope you have a pleasant stay."
And then she walked away, her head high, her scent betraying the storm brewing beneath her composure.
Ronan exhaled slowly, tension threading through his shoulders.
Lyra nudged him lightly. "You wanted her to react. Now she is."
"Yeah," he said quietly, watching Raven's figure disappear around the corner. "But I'm starting to think I might regret it."