~RONAN ~

I’ve got plans, plans that include finishing this ceremony, getting through all the formalities, and then taking my Roselle back to her room. Kissing her until she’s dizzy. Holding her close and watching her sleep.

She makes me feel complete in a way I never thought possible. I can’t even put it into words.

It’s like I’ve been walking around with a missing piece of myself for years without realizing it. And now that she’s here, everything just feels... right. Fixed. Whole. That’s what she does to me.

Standing at the front of the ceremonial hall, my voice carries across the gathered crowd as I address the assembled Alphas and other pack members.

I force myself to look away from Roselle because she’s a fucking distraction.

A dangerous one.

Dressed in that silver gown, she looks like something out of a dream—ethereal, elegant, and beautiful enough to command the attention of every person in the hall.

Too many eyes are on her. Too many men are looking for a second longer than they should, and the possessive urge to march across the room, drag her into my arms, and remind everyone that she’s mine is nearly impossible to suppress.

I continue with the speech, finally finding my focus again—until I hear her heartbeat.

It’s racing, pounding frantically against her ribs in a rhythm that screams panic.

The sound pierces through my concentration in the middle of a sentence. Kael goes instantly alert, immediately recognizing that something is terribly wrong.

My gaze darts to where she was sitting beside Nikolai. She isn’t fucking there.

The chair is empty. Nikolai is looking around frantically, clearly searching for her, The moment our eyes meet across the hall, I see the panic in his expression mirror my own.

Where is she?

Kael is already moving inside me, pushing to shift, demanding I find her immediately. I suppress him with effort, but barely.

My gaze sweeps across the hall, assessing every Alpha and every possible threat. Then it lands on Alpha Quirin. The bastard who couldn’t keep his eyes off Roselle earlier.

He’s sitting near the back, wearing a smug smile that makes Kael snarl. There’s satisfaction in his expression, a look that says he knows something I don’t. And suddenly, every instinct in my body is screaming that he’s involved.

He took her. That rotten bastard somehow got her alone and took her.

I don’t remember leaving the podium or crossing the hall. One moment I’m giving a speech and the next I’m grabbing Quirin by the collar and slamming him face-first into the table hard enougthat h to crack the wooden surface. Plates of food scatter, drinks spill, and every single person in the hall goes silent.

"Where. The. Fuck. Is. My. Bride?" I snarl, my voice dropping into something that’s more animal than human.

Quirin chokes, blood dripping from his broken nose. "I—I don’t know nothing about it, Alpha. I swear—"

I drag him across the table by his throat, completely prepared to rip his head clean off his shoulders.

"You’re challenging me?" I growl. "Because that’s what it looks like when you lie to an Alpha about the location of his mate."

Attacking another Alpha in front of witnesses is essentially a declaration of war, a challenge to his authority, and Quirin knows it. His eyes go wide with terror because he realizes he’s about to die, that his denial doesn’t matter, that the only thing that matters is finding Roselle and making sure she’s safe. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Then her heartbeat grows louder. The steady rhythm is gone, replaced by frantic pounding that echoes through my mind. Each rapid beat screams panic, fear, and desperation.

I release Quirin without a second thought, letting him crash to the ground gasping for air, and I’m already moving. Nikolai is right behind me, having read the situation instantly, and my mother is calling out something that I don’t hear because all I can focus on is following Roselle’s scent.

It’s faint, mixed with fear-sweat and something else, something acrid and chemical that makes Kael snarl in recognition. Wolfsbane.

Whoever is doing this is using wolfsbane on her, and when I find them, they’re dead.

The rage that floods through me at that realization is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

I burst through the storage shed door without slowing down, sending it flying off its hinges.

The acrid smoke hits me instantly, burning my lungs, but I barely notice it. All I can see is her.

Roselle.

She’s tied to a chair, struggling for breath. Her skin is pale, blood staining her torn wrists where she’s clearly fought against the ropes. Her eyes are glassy, her body slumped and barely moving. For one horrifying second, my heart stops. I think I’m too late. I think I’ve lost her.

I think I’m about to find her lifeless body instead of hearing her breathe. But she’s alive. She’s breathing, barely, but she’s alive.

I grab the chair, and tear her away from that nightmare, moving into the fresh air so quickly the world blurs around me. I set her down gently and my hands are already working at the ropes, my movements precise even as rage courses through every cell in my body.

"I’ve got you," I say, my voice softer than it should be given the fury vibrating through me. "I’ve got you, Roselle. You’re safe."

The moment the ropes fall away, the moment she’s free, I turn around.

The two bastards responsible for this are already running. The former guards I fired earlier. The ones who failed so miserably at protecting Roselle that I stripped them of their positions without a second thought. And now they’ve made the biggest mistake of their lives.

Kael is screaming in my head, demanding carnage, and death, demanding I make them suffer the way they made her suffer.

I move faster than the eye can follow. One of them manages only a few steps before my hand closes around his throat. I lift him off the ground and drive him into the nearest tree hard enough to crack the bark. The trunk shudders from the force of the impact.

His body goes limp for a second, and I’m pretty sure his spine didn’t survive the collision intact.

He gasps, his hands immediately coming up to claw at my wrist, his eyes bulging as he realizes he has no escape, no mercy, no hope.

And then I squeeze.

I watch as his struggles weaken, watch as panic gives way to the absolute knowledge that he’s going to die. My eyes stay locked on his face, cataloging every moment of his suffering, making sure he understands exactly what it means to hurt what belongs to me. His tongue lolls out, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his eyes bulging further as his body goes limp.

Only when there’s absolutely no life left in him do I release him, letting him crumple to the ground like the garbage he is.

The second guard is already running into the dark, but I don’t chase him. I turn back to Roselle instead.

She’s standing there, her body heaving with effort, her eyes wide and fixed on the corpse I just created. And then her legs buckle, her eyes roll back, and she’s falling.

I catch her before she hits the ground, scooping her up into my arms, and her body is limp, unconscious, completely unresponsive.

No. No, no, no.

"Elias," I call out through the mindlink, already moving toward the pack house. "Get to the medical wing. Now."

I carry her through the hallways of the pack house, her body cradled against my chest, her head falling back limply. Her skin is pale, her breathing shallow, and every second that passes feels like an eternity of terror.

Elias meets me at the medical wing entrance, his eyes taking in her condition in one sweeping glance.

"Get her on the bed," he commands, and I comply immediately, laying her down as gently as I can.

"What happened?" he asks, already moving to check her vitals.

"Wolfsbane smoke," I say, my voice rough. "They locked her in a shed and burned wolfsbane. They wanted to weaken her wolf."

Elias’s hands pause for a fraction of a second as he processes this information. Then he continues his examination, his movements becoming more efficient.

"She’s fine," he says after several minutes of thorough checking. "She’s just unconscious from smoke inhalation and shock. Her body shut down as a survival mechanism."

Relief crashes through me so hard I nearly collapse, but it’s short-lived because Elias is suddenly giving me a look that’s equal parts pity and judgment.

"What?" I demand.

"Did anything else happen?" he asks carefully. "Anything terrifying besides the wolfsbane smoke?"

I tell him about killing one of the guards.

His eyes widen instantly. "You killed someone in front of her," he says flatly.

I don’t answer. There’s no point.

"Ronan." Elias sets down his instruments and turns to face me fully. "That girl has been through more trauma in eighteen years than most people experience in a lifetime. She’s not built for violence. She’s not built for watching you execute someone, no matter how much they deserved it."

His voice is firm, but there’s an underlying note of concern that makes me want to defend myself.

"What was I supposed to do?" I growl. "Let them live? Let them walk away after what they did to her?"

"No," Elias says calmly. "But you could have done it away from her. You could have given her a moment to recover before exposing her to that level of brutality."

He moves back to check Roselle’s vitals again, his movements gentle, practiced.

"For someone who’s just been through trauma-induced muteness, I think killing someone in their presence was exactly the wrong thing to do," he continues quietly.

His words land like physical blows because he’s right. He’s absolutely right.

I look at Roselle’s unconscious form, her pale face, her torn wrists, and I feel the weight of my choices pressing down on me with crushing force.

"This is exactly why I can’t mark her," I say, the realization solidifying in my mind like ice. "If she can’t even handle watching me kill someone, how is she supposed to handle the mark? How is she supposed to survive the bond with a wolf as possessive and violent as Kael? She’s too fragile. Too broken."

Elias doesn’t respond, just continues his work, but his silence feels like an indictment.

Inside my head, Kael is quiet for a moment. Then, slowly, he begins to speak.

"You’re being a fucking idiot," he snaps, frustration dripping from every word. "You’re not protecting her by staying away, because that’s what you thinks she needs. But no,"

"She needs us more than that. I don’t want to be limited to feeling her heartbeat or tracking her scent whenever something goes wrong. I want a real connection with her. I want to reach her soul. I want to know when she’s sad, when she’s nervous, when she’s scared. I want to be able to speak to her through the mind-link, to know where she is and what she needs. That’s what we should fucking want if we’re serious about keeping her safe, you dummy."

I inhale sharply. Here we go again. We’re really having this argument.

"She can’t handle—"

"She can handle anything if she knows you’re hers," Kael cuts me off before I can finish. "The bond will protect her. The mark will strengthen her. But you know what won’t help?"

There’s a pause

"You being a coward and keeping your distance to ease your own conscience. You’re not protecting her, Ronan. You’re abandoning her."

I turn away from the medical bed, unable to look at her anymore, unable to face what I know is coming.

"If I mark her, I could kill her," I say quietly.

"And if you don’t, the curse will consume you eventually anyway," Kael replies with brutal honesty. "Then what happens to her? Do you really think she’ll be better off watching you become a monster because you were too afraid to give her a choice?"

He snarls in irritation. "For Moon Goddess’ sake, stop going back and forth. You made your decision hours ago. Now you’re standing here trying to argue yourself out of it."

"Stop. Fucking. Overthinking." His growl rumbles through my head.

"If you weren’t my human, Ronan, I’d have been tempted to kill you."

He’s right. I know he’s right. But the image of her fainting in my arms, the knowledge that my brutality caused her to lose consciousness, it’s a weight I don’t know how to carry.

Elias clears his throat, pulling my attention back to the present.

"She’ll wake up in a few hours," he says. "Just let her rest. And Ronan?" He gives me a meaningful. "Don’t overthink it."