~ RONAN ~

The number of times I’ve paced outside the medical wing has to be unhealthy.

Dr. Elias practically ordered me to stay put and wait until she wakes up, his voice carrying the exasperation of someone who’s watched me wear a groove into the floor for the past four hours. The wolfsbane smoke only affected her lungs, he’s assured me of this multiple times — it could have been exponentially worse. Her body just needs time.

It’s been hours already. The Blood Moon Ceremony has long since ended, the grand hall emptied of guests, the decorations left to be cleaned up by servants, and yet I’m still here, pacing like a caged animal, my mind replaying every moment from the time I noticed her missing until the moment I found her gasping for air in that shed.

I’ve already ordered Nikolai to track down and capture the second guard, the one who managed to escape. He’s out there somewhere, running, probably hoping to make it far enough away that I’ll decide he’s not worth the effort to hunt. He’s wrong.

I’m still furious with Nikolai, though I know that fury is displaced and misdirected. Protecting Roselle was his responsibility, his one fucking job, and yet somehow she slipped away unnoticed and ended up alone with two men who wanted nothing more than to hurt her.

His defense is that she told him not to follow her because she was heading to the ladies’ restroom. Under normal circumstances, that would be understandable — a woman needing privacy is a reasonable request. Nikolai couldn’t have predicted that she’d get lost, couldn’t have foreseen the chaos that would unfold.

But after what happened? I don’t give a damn how reasonable the excuse sounds.

I turn sharply, raking my hands through my hair in frustration, and I immediately freeze as I see my mother standing at the entrance to the hallway.

She’s changed out of her formal dress, trading it for a flowing robe that drapes elegantly around her frame. Her dark hair is pulled back, her expression stern and assessing as she takes in my current state — disheveled, agitated, clearly operating on the edge of my control.

"How is she?" she asks, her voice carrying the weight of a Luna who has ruled alongside Alphas and knows exactly how to command a room.

I exhale, trying to ground myself in the present moment rather than spiraling into what-ifs and worst-case scenarios.

"Dr. Elias says she’s going to be fine," I reply, leaning heavily on the word ’fine’ because it’s the only thing keeping me from completely losing my mind. "The smoke damaged her lungs but nothing permanent. She just needs rest."

My mother nods, stepping closer, and there’s something in her expression that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This isn’t a social visit. She’s here because something needs to be said, and from the set of her jaw, I can already tell I’m not going to like it.

"You challenged Alpha Quirin in front of the entire council," she says flatly, not bothering with pleasantries or preamble. "You attacked another Alpha, accused him of taking your bride without evidence, and made a spectacle that has every pack wondering if you’re losing your grip on sanity."

"He deserved it," I respond, my voice cold.

"That’s not the point." She steps even closer, her eyes boring into mine. "You took her to one of the most important events of the year, paraded her in front of every powerful Alpha in our territory. And then, the moment something went wrong, you nearly started a war with Quirin."

I clench my jaw, saying nothing because she’s not finished.

"Can’t you see what’s happening?" she continues, her voice taking on an urgent tone. "She makes your curse worsen. Every time you’re around her, every time you feel protective of her, your control slips further. The darkness is getting stronger."

"That’s not her fault," I say sharply.

"I’m not saying it is," my mother replies, her tone softening slightly. "But intentions don’t matter. Results do. And the result is that you killed one pack guards because of her. Two guards who were, however misdirected their anger was, still members of our pack."

The accusation lands like a physical blow because it’s true. I did it without hesitation, without mercy, without any of the careful consideration that should accompany the taking of a life.

"It makes me question what lengths you’ll go for her," my mother continues quietly. "How far are you willing to push, Ronan? Because from where I’m standing, you’re losing control. And that’s dangerous — not just for you, but for everyone around you."

She pauses, letting that sink in.

"Remind yourself of something important," she says, her voice dropping lower. "The last vial is finished. There is no safety net anymore. Whatever you do from this point forward, you need to be smart about it."

My stomach tightens because I know she’s right. But still, I don’t give a damn about it. I’ll kill whoever dares to touch her.

"We have opponents waiting," she continues, and now there’s a note of warning in her voice. "Alphas who would love nothing more than to see you lose your position, to see Black Shadow Pack fracture and fall. They’re watching for any sign of weakness. Any indication that you’re unstable. And right now, with the way you’ve been acting, they’re seeing exactly what they need to move against you."

"Let them try," I growl.

"Don’t be foolish," my mother snaps. "Pride before the fall, Ronan. You taught me better than that. Think strategically. Think about the pack, not just about her."

Before I can respond, before I can defend myself or explain why Roselle matters more than political posturing, a sweet, inviting scent suddenly hits me. Sweet, intoxicating, and unmistakably female heat.

The scent wraps around me, carried by the same scent of the one person I’m ready to burn this world for.

Roselle.

My eyes widen. It’s Roselle’s heat.

Her scent is pouring out of the medical wing like a beacon, calling to every unmated male in the pack.

I stop mid-sentence, mid-thought, my entire body going rigid as Kael takes over.

’Ours,’ Kael snarls. ’Mine. No one else gets to scent her like this.’

I’m already moving toward the medical wing door before I consciously decide to move, my mother’s voice fading into the background as I focus on one thing and one thing only: securing Roselle before the other males in the pack realize what’s happening.

But I’m too late.

As I reach her door, I catch the scent of at least three other males approaching, their nostrils flaring as they catch her heat scent drifting down the hallway. They’re coming closer, drawn like moths to a flame, their wolves recognizing an unmated female in heat.

I position myself directly in front of her door, and I release my full Alpha presence with a force that has the entire hallway trembling.

The pressure is absolute, a complete assertion of dominance that says without words: This female belongs to me.

The three males approaching skid to a halt, their bodies immediately going rigid as they feel the weight of my Alpha aura crashing down on them like a tidal wave. Their eyes widen, their wolves instantly submitting to the hierarchy they recognize without question.

One of them, Dane, a gamma, actually drops to his knees, his entire body shaking as he struggles against the pressure of my Alpha presence.

"Alpha," he gasps out, his voice strained. "We didn’t—we weren’t—"

"Get away from her door," I say quietly, my voice carrying the absolute authority of an Alpha who is not to be questioned.

The three males scramble backward, tripping over each other in their haste to escape the oppressive weight of my power. They don’t even try to argue, don’t even attempt to explain. They simply remove themselves from the vicinity because challenging an Alpha in full possession of his authority is a death sentence.

Within seconds, the hallway is cleared, and I’m alone again, standing guard in front of Roselle’s door.