She found him in the east wing training room.
No shirt.Sweat on his back.Golden eyes glowing like someone had already pissed him off.
Good.
Because she was about to do worse.
He hadn't come to her. Not after the mark. Not after the dream. Not after the night she touched herself and woke half the damn castle with his howling.
And now he was standing there like he wasn't going mad from it.
Like she was the only one unraveling.
She didn't knock. Didn't ask permission. Just shoved the door wide and stormed in like she owned the air between them.
He turned. Slowly. That same stillness in his bones, like he could snap or vanish at any second.
His chest rose and fell, slow, but hard. Controlled.
"Why won't you speak to me?" she demanded.
Silence.
"You branded me. Marked me. Ruined me," she hissed, stepping closer. "And then you act like I don't exist."
Still nothing.
Her hands clenched. "Say something, Ronan."
Nothing.
Say something.
Say something.
She didn't know if she wanted him to scream or beg or throw her across the room, but the way he just stood there like she wasn't even worth a word?
It made her snap.
"Did you break this easy when your first mate died too?"
The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
But it was too late.
The shift was instant.
Not in his body, his eyes.
Something inside them shattered.
And then?
He moved.
Faster than breath.
Her back hit the wall so hard the stone cracked behind her.
A hand gripped her jaw—tight. Not painful. Not quite. But enough to steal her breath.
His body caged her in, massive and radiating heat like a wildfire barely held in skin.
Still silent.
But his golden eyes burned.
She opened her mouth, and he growled.
Not soft.
Not warning.
Ferocious.
She gasped, and he dropped his head, burying his face against her throat.
Not kissing. Not biting.
Scenting.
Her knees buckled. His body pinned hers in place like a wall of muscle and fury and need.
Then his mouth dragged lower.
Collarbone.
Shoulder.
His hand pressed against her waist and slid just under her shirt, enough to feel skin. Enough to make her breath catch and her core pulse with want.
She hated it.
Loved it.
Needed more.
Then,
He stopped.
Everything in him trembled like he was at war with himself.
And she felt it.
The bond.
Flared.
Burned.
Demanded.
Let me.
The voice hit her mind like a drug.
Please.
A whisper. Frantic. Raw.
His lips found her jaw. Then her mouth. He didn't kiss her, just hovered.
Waiting.
Praying.
Auren couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
But she wanted it. Gods, she wanted him to break.
To take.
To make good on every promise the mark burned into her skin.
She leaned in.
Barely.
And he snapped back like she'd struck him.
His eyes wild. Hands shaking.
He stumbled away like it hurt to leave her.
And then?
He was gone.
Vanished into the shadows again.
Leaving her hot.
Wet.
Mad.
And more confused than ever.
Auren slammed the door behind her hard enough to rattle the walls.
Her hands shook.
Her lips were swollen from almost kissing him...
WTF. Why are my lips this fucking swollen when he didn't even fucking kiss me?.... She thought.....
Her thighs still pressed tight from the heat he'd left behind. Her mark?
Burning. Sizzling. Amplifying.
She paced the room like a caged animal, dragging both hands through her hair.
"Did you break this easy when your first mate died too?"
She'd said it.She'd meant it.But gods, she hadn't expected him to react like that. Hadn't expected him to pin her, scent her, grind his silent, snarling presence into her bones and then—
Stop.
He could've taken her. She would've let him.
Instead, he ran again. Just like always.
"I hate you," she whispered to the empty room, voice trembling. "I fucking hate you. I hate you for making me feel like this."
But her body didn't.
It still buzzed. Ached. Throbbed in the center of her.
The bond pulled like a hook under her skin.
And this time? She didn't fight it.
She smirked as she stripped off her jacket, then her shirt, leaving the cold air to kiss her skin. Her pants hit the floor next, then her panties. She crawled into bed, the fire crackling across the room, casting shadows against the stone.
She lay back on the sheets, her legs falling open.
And touched herself.
Not gently.
Not like last time.
Desperate. Angry. Wild.
Her fingers slid through slick heat, her breath catching in her throat.
"Fuck you," she muttered, thinking of his face, his eyes, glowing like fury and restraint.His mouth hovering above hers.
"Fuck you, Ronan," she hissed again as her hips rolled into her palm, knowing exactly what it was doing to him too.
The mark flared.
Bright.
Hot.
Burning now. She smirked.
A wave hit her chest. Her back arched. Her head tipped back, her orgasm crashing through her flooding her with the relieft from the built up tension.
And the second she moaned his name—
The bond shattered.
Not broke.
Exploded.
In his gym, where she had stormed out of she heard him...he roared
Not a howl.
A sound of rage and surrender and pure, savage mating hunger.
The ground shook.
Wood split.
Glass shattered.
And footsteps thundered.
Fast.
Uncontrolled.
Coming straight for her.
She barely had time to pull the blanket to her chest before her door blew open, hinges torn clean off.
Ronan stood there.
Half-shifted. Eyes glowing gold, wild and unfocused. His chest heaved. His claws were out.
His teeth were bared.
The room trembled with his breathing.
He was soaked in sweat, muscles flexed like he'd been holding back the end of the world—and now he'd finally been given permission to burn it down.
He didn't speak.
Didn't have to.
He reached for her, stripping the blanket away like it commited a crime covering his view.
The moment he saw her, naked under the blanket, flushed, panting, wet, he moved.
She gasped.
He climbed onto the bed like a predator, caging her in, but not touching, not yet.
Just staring.
At her.
Then, he sniffed the air, his eyes more wolf then human... trailing those eyes down her body as he sucked in another deep breath like her arousal was the scent in the air he needed to survive.
When his eyes finally stopped they landed on the slick between her thighs.
Then traveled back up to the mark on her chest.
Her body trembled. "Ronan—"
Mine.
The word exploded through the bond like a command from the gods. Her mark flared, hot and alive, glowing bright enough to light the shadows clinging to the stone walls.
And then he was on her.
His mouth crashed against hers, devouring, claiming, consuming. There was nothing soft in the way he kissed, only teeth and tongue and possessive hunger. Like she was already his and he was just catching up.