~ ROSELLE ~

It’s been two months since we met with the council, and surprisingly, everything has been going smoothly.

The wedding waa placed on hold since Elias gave me a three-month ultimatum to heal completely. Well... it’s been less than three months, and I’ve already regained my voice.

It’s good news—news that has Ronan practically over the moon. Not that I’m not happy too. I am. At least the council won’t be able to look down on me for being mute anymore.

Now all that’s left is for me to get my wolf back.

Elias said the chemical used on me is unlike anything he’s ever encountered. Its composition is strange, and despite everything they’ve tried, they still haven’t been able to identify a cure. The research is ongoing, and they’re still searching for a solution.

Ronan spends most of his days at work, and aside from my appointments with Dr. Morris and Elias, I’ve mostly stayed indoors, trying to keep myself occupied.

Over the past two months, I’ve started writing a book, documenting my life, my struggles, and everything I’ve been through. Maybe one day I’ll publish it. Or maybe it’ll simply become something my children... and someday, my grandchildren, can read to understand where I came from.

Lately, Celeste has made it her personal mission to keep me busy.

She has me designing wedding outfits for Ronan and me, creating an elegant Luna’s wardrobe for every occasion, sketching practical yet beautiful training attire for the pack’s female warriors, and even teaching me how to tailor and sew.

Somewhere along the way, she became more than just a friend. She became someone I could truly talk to.

A sudden knock at the door pulls me away from my writing. I pause, expecting to see Celeste standing on the other side with yet another fun idea to keep me occupied.

I close my journal, leaving my pen tucked between the pages where I’d been writing, then make my way downstairs and open the door.

The moment I see who’s standing there, I freeze.

It’s not Celeste like I had assumed. It’s Ronan’s mother.

We haven’t really had the chance to get to know each other, but I can tell she doesn’t approve of me marrying her son. In fact, Ronan has always seemed intent on shielding me from her, rarely giving us the opportunity to meet aside from the day at the Blood Moon Ceremony and the Council meeting.

He insists she’s kind and means well... But that doesn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat.

She’s never once come to our door before. So why is she here now?

Dressed in an elegant midnight-blue, floor-length gown with long fitted sleeves and a high neckline. Her silver-streaked dark hair is swept into a sophisticated chignon, and despite the simplicity of her dress sense, she carries herself with the unmistakable poise of a woman who once ruled beside an Alpha.

"Hi, Mrs. Blackthorn," I greet hesitantly.

She dismisses the formal greeting with a wave of her hand, stepping inside before I can even invite her in. Brushing past me, her eyes roam the house before finally settling on me.

"Nonsense. Call me Ravenna," she says smoothly, her voice elegant and refined.

"Okay... Ravenna," I repeat.

A faint smile spreads across her lips, and I stand awkwardly behind her, unsure of what to do next. Should I offer her a seat? Tell her Ronan is at work? Or simply wait for her to explain why she’s here?

"You’ve finally found your voice," she says, turning to face me. "So the rumors are true... you can talk after all."

Something about the way she says it unsettles me. It’s not encouraging. If anything, it sounds almost... mocking. Maybe it’s her tone or maybe I’m just overthinking it.

"Yes, thank you."

She waves it off with a quiet grunt before taking three measured strides across the room. I can’t keep the question to myself any longer.

"Are you looking for Ronan?" I ask cautiously. "He’s at work. He’s not home."

She finally turns to face me, her expression unreadable.

"If I were looking for Ronan," she says evenly, "I’d know exactly where to find him. I came to talk to you."

Okay... My heart lurches. Talk to me?

"So far, I’ve heard about your relationship... and the news that Ronan has become a changed Alpha. I’m not an ungrateful mother not to appreciate you for that." She pauses before taking a step closer, her grey eyes narrowing as they study me. Ronan really did inherit her eyes.

"I need your help."

My brows knit together in confusion. "You love him, don’t you?" she asks matter-of-factly.

I nod before I can stop myself, even though I’ve never actually said the words to Ronan.

I do love him. I mean... what’s not to love?

He’s fiercely protective, impossibly patient with me, and somehow always knows exactly what I need before I do. Loving him was never the hard part.

"I thought so," she says quietly. "Then you must be willing to make a sacrifice for him. Ronan has sacrificed so much for you... I suppose it’s your turn now."

Okay...

This conversation is getting stranger by the second. The vague statements, the half-answered questions... they’re beginning to make my stomach twist with unease.

"What is this about?" I ask, unable to keep the apprehension out of my voice.

"You’re not his mate," she says at last. The words don’t sting the way they once would have.

Instead, I finally understand where she’s trying to steer this conversation.

Oh... I’m not doing this.

Ronan has already assured me he’d take care of everything. The last thing I want is to involve myself in a discussion he’s already asked me to leave to him.

"Ravenna," I say as calmly as I can, "I don’t want to have this discussion. I’m fully aware that I’m not his mate, and I’m aware that many people believe I’m unfit to be Luna. But I think the person you should be having this conversation with is your son, not me."

She scoffs, one perfectly arched brow lifting in disbelief.

"You’re not even Luna yet," she says coldly, "and you already have the audacity to dismiss me."

Dismissing her? Since when does refusing to take part in a conversation count as dismissing someone?

"I need you to hear me before I leave." Her expression hardens, but beneath it I catch the unmistakable fear of a mother. "Ronan is all I have. Our bloodline has dwindled over the years. There are relatives—even his own cousin—and others who would gladly see him dead so they can claim his position."

She pauses, studying my face. "Did he tell you about the curse?"

I nod slowly.

"Yes. He said only his true mate can break it."

She nods once.

"And did he tell you what happens if he never finds his true mate?"

I freeze. No... Ronan never mentioned that. He only promised me he’d find another way. A way for us to stay together.

"He’s going to die," she says, each word landing like a hammer against my chest. "The vial that has been keeping him sane ran out the very day he rescued you from the woods."

My breath catches.

"I know he wouldn’t have told you, but he nearly lost himself that day. He almost died. That final vial was his last chance." Her voice trembles ever so slightly. "There are no more. Which means death could come for him at any time."

She steps closer, her grey eyes locking onto mine.

"If you truly love him the way you claim you do..." she says quietly, "then you’ll set him free. You’ll let him find his true mate... and give him the chance to live."