She didn't know when she fell asleep.
All she remembered was being full. Marked. Owned.
His body heavy on hers. His knot locked inside her. His arms tight, like if he let go, the curse might drag him back into the dark.
But when she stirred, he was still there.
Still deep inside her.
Still hard.
Still watching.
Golden eyes gleamed in the low morning light, half-shadowed by the mess of his black hair, and he looked…
Ruined.
But ravenous.
She blinked, still dazed. "Ronan?"
He didn't answer.
He just moved.
His hips rolled forward, slow, deep, controlled.
The knot still nestled tight inside her began to swell again.
Auren moaned, the sound raw from her throat. "We— I— it's still…"
You can take more, his voice growled inside her skull. You were made for me.
And gods help her, she was.
His teeth scraped her shoulder, and she gasped as his hand slid under her stomach, lifting her hips and forcing her to feel every inch of him stretching her again.
He thrust. Not fast.
Deep. Brutal. Unforgiving.
Like he was carving himself into her.
Her forehead hit the pillow.
He didn't stop.
Not when she whimpered.
Not when she begged.
Not when she cried out as her climax built again.
His mouth moved along her spine, dragging down with every stroke. His hands pinned her thighs open, locked around her hips like a predator refusing to let his prey crawl away.
Her body shook when she came. Again.
Then again.
And when his knot finally swelled again and locked them back together, she collapsed, boneless, shaking, breathless.
And this time?
He stayed still.
Long enough for her to feel the ache, the heat, the belonging.
Long enough for her to believe maybe he wouldn't run.
When she woke, his knot was gone.
Her thighs were sticky. Her body wrecked.
And Ronan?
Still there.
Silent.
Breathing.
Watching her like she was both salvation and sin.
She whispered, "I need to clean up."
He said nothing. Didn't even blink.
But when she slid out of bed and stood, his eyes dragged down her body like he was burning the sight into memory.
She didn't bother covering herself.
Let him look.
Let him remember.
The bath was quiet.
She sank into the water, wincing as the heat touched sore muscles and tender skin.
He'd taken her like he was fighting for air.
And now… she didn't know what they were.
But part of her, some insane, soft, hopeful part, believed that when she stepped out of the bathroom…
He'd still be there.
Waiting.
He wasn't.
The sheets were cold.
The fire had burned low.
The clothes he'd left on the chair were gone.
And so was he.
Auren stood in the doorway, naked, wet hair dripping down her spine, and felt it.
The emptiness.
Not just in the room.
In the bond.
He'd sealed it.
He'd filled her.
He'd claimed her.
And then he'd left her alone.
Warm sheets. Cold space beside her. No sign of him.The air was too still now. Too empty. Her bond still buzzed, low and hungry, but Ronan was nowhere to be found.
Her body still ached sweet, filthy proof of what they'd done last night wasn't a dream or her imagination. She reached up and touched the mark he left and a sick feeling hit her stomach. He hadn't claimed her out of his own wanting. He claimed her because of the mate bond. His control had snapped.
She swallowed at that thought. She knew he didn't really want her and even though she knew what this was when her family sent her here, it still hurt like a bitch. But she sure wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
So she sighed and decided to get ready for the day.
She cleaned up brushing her bright red hair and braiding it to one side. Then dressed in a bright red gown she found in her closet. She wanted him and his entire pack to KNOW she was on a war path.
She didn't care if he was brooding in some forgotten wing of the house. She needed to get out. To breathe. To reset her head before the tension building inside her detonated.
The front corridor was dim, shadows stretching across the floor like fingers. Two guards stood at the double doors, massive, unmoving, and armored like statues.
She didn't hesitate. "I need air."
One of them shifted slightly. "You can't leave the manor."
Auren blinked. "Excuse me?"
"Alpha's orders," the other said, not looking at her. "Effective this morning. No one in or out."
A low laugh slipped from her lips, sharp and humorless. "You think I'm just going to nod and stay locked up like a pet?"
"It's not our place to question—"
"No. Clearly not," she snapped. "But maybe someone can explain why the hell I'm being caged after getting claimed like a chew toy last night."
Their expressions stayed blank, but something flickered in one of their gazes, recognition, maybe. Pity.
And that only pissed her off more.
"You know what?" she hissed. "Tell your Alpha that his new 'mate' doesn't take orders like some meek little lamb. And if he has something to say to me, he can use his damn words."
She turned, storming back into the heart of the manor, fury igniting with every step. Her boots slapped against the floor, echoing like war drums. Servants shrank out of her way. Doors slammed behind her.
This wasn't a sanctuary. She knew it wouldn't be. But she also never thought it would be a fucking cage.
And she was done pretending she didn't feel the walls closing in. She snapped.
She stalked through corridor after corridor, eyes wild, jaw clenched. Hands clenched into fists…
"Ronan!" she shouted into the empty space.
No answer.
"Come out, you coward!"
Still nothing.
She reached the central stairwell and slammed her hand against the banister.
"Let's go then," she growled, voice thick with rage. "You want to play Alpha? You want to growl, fuck me, claim me, disappear and then keep me locked up in this damn place without even having the balls to tell me?"
"FACE ME you coward!"
Silence answered her again.
But her rage didn't fade.
It sharpened.
Because if he thought she was going to roll over and accept whatever twisted idea of "mating" this was?
He'd picked the wrong girl.
She was better than this shit. He wasn't just going to be able to brush her off. Fuck that.