Lies And Truth

The first thing Diva felt was the cold bite of stone against her back. Not the kind of cold that came with winter, but the kind that wrapped itself around the bones—unnatural and damp. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, uneasy, pacing in circles just out of reach. A dull ache throbbed in her head as her eyelids fluttered open.

The room was dim—windowless—lit only by a single flickering torch on the wall. Stone walls, a slab of a bed with no warmth, and a heavy wooden door with iron hinges. It felt like a tomb.

Her instincts screamed before her thoughts could catch up.

She pushed herself upright, groaning as her limbs protested. Everything felt… drugged. Her senses dulled, her wolf sluggish like it had been sedated. She sniffed the air—something bitter still lingered in her system. Her memory flashed back: she’d gone for a run, her paws hitting the forest floor, heart pounding from a heated argument with her brother. She had shifted back and returned to her cabin… and then blackness.

Someone had taken her.

Her stomach twisted as she swung her legs off the edge of the bed, feet hitting the cold ground. She tried to call to her wolf again—no response. Still sleeping. Still drugged.

A soft sound made her freeze. Metal clicking.

She rose to her feet quickly, ignoring the wobble in her stance. Her claws hadn’t returned, but her instincts were sharp.

The door creaked open. A tall figure stepped inside.

And she knew him instantly.

“Ronan,” she growled.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t smirk. Just stood in the doorway, the flickering torchlight catching the gold in his eyes. There was no madness in him—just something old and worn, like a blade that had been sharpened too many times.

“You remember me,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Hard to forget a rogue Alpha who betrayed his pack.”

Ronan stepped into the room and closed the door with a quiet finality. “You’re awake sooner than expected. The wolfsbane dose must’ve been lighter than I thought.”

Diva bared her teeth. “You drugged me. You used rogues to get to me.”

“I did,” he said, unshaken. “Because you never would’ve listened otherwise.”

“I’m not listening now.”

He moved to the chair in the corner and sat down, his presence quiet but commanding. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Then what did you want, Ronan? A chat over blood and betrayal?”

He exhaled slowly. “I wanted the truth to matter again.”

She crossed her arms tightly, her body coiled. “The only truth I see is that you’ve been hiding in the shadows for years, licking your wounds.”

His eyes darkened, something ancient flashing through them. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I asked to be cast out? I was Derek’s Beta—his brother by bond. We bled for the same dream.”

Diva didn’t answer. Her wolf stirred again, sensing the crack in his voice.

“He changed,” Ronan continued, quieter now. “He started cutting deals behind the council’s back. Dismantling weaker clans and replacing them with Alphas who answered only to him. I called him out. I stood against him.”

He looked at her, gaze unwavering.

“He called me mad. Power-hungry. He turned the council against me with lies. My rank was stripped. My name erased. The wolves loyal to me? Exiled. Or worse.”

Diva’s breath hitched. She’d heard versions of this tale—but always from Derek’s side. Always framed with Ronan as the threat. The betrayer.

“Why me?” she whispered. “Why take me?”

“Because you still see,” he said. “You haven’t been fully caged by his lies. You ask questions. You protect the weak. And because…”

He paused, lowering his voice.

“…because you matter to him. Which means you’re the only one who might matter to me.”

She tensed, unsure if that was a threat or something more dangerous.

Ronan rose but kept his distance. “There are no chains here. No bars. You can walk out that door. No one will stop you.”

Her jaw tightened. “And if I leave?”

“Then you go back to a world built on lies,” he said softly. “But if you stay—just for a few days—you’ll see the cracks. You’ll see him for what he truly is.”

He turned to the door and pulled it open, the torchlight casting his shadow across the floor.

“Stay or go, Diva. That choice is yours.”

Then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Diva didn’t move. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from the weight of the choice in front of her. Her wolf pressed against her ribs now, awake and restless, sensing the shift in the air.

Everything she’d believed. Everything she’d trusted.

It all suddenly felt like a carefully built lie.

And in the silence of that stone room, she wasn’t sure if the true enemy was the rogue Alpha who told her too much…

…or the one she’d sworn to follow without question.