4

Chapter Four — The Price of Breathing

The body stayed where it fell.

No one rushed to remove it. No one spoke. The corridor seemed to hold its breath, stone walls slick with blood and tension. Wolves stood frozen in various stages of shift claws half-extended, eyes glowing, chests heaving. The scent of death thickened the air until it coated the back of my throat.

I was still standing over him.

The assassin.

His neck lay at an angle that made it clear he wouldn’t be getting back up again. I stared down at him, waiting for something shock, horror, regret.

None came.

Instead, there was a strange calm. Not peace. Not satisfaction. Just a grounded stillness, like I had finally stepped into the right shape.

That terrified me more than the killing.

“Clear the hall.”

Ronan’s voice cut through the moment like a blade through silk. It wasn’t loud, but it carried. Wolves snapped to attention instantly, dragging the body away, ushering servants and guards back, sealing doors with practiced efficiency. Within seconds, the corridor was empty except for us.

Ronan. Mara. And me.

Mara pressed a hand to her bleeding arm, jaw tight. “The Council will deny involvement.”

“They always do,” Ronan replied coldly. “But this was no rogue decision.”

He turned fully to me then, gaze sharp and assessing. I felt it like a physical touch, his attention stripping me bare layer by layer. The bond hummed low, not intrusive observant.

“You didn’t hesitate,” he said.

I folded my arms, suddenly aware my hands were smeared with blood. “Should I have?”

“Yes,” Mara said flatly. “You should have screamed. Frozen. Run.”

I met her gaze. “I didn’t.”

“No,” she agreed. “You didn’t.”

Silence stretched.

Ronan stepped closer. Close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the gravity. My wolf stirred, alert but not submissive. Curious.

“You killed a Council-appointed executioner,” he said. “That act alone condemns you.”

I shrugged, though my heart was pounding. “He was going to kill me.”

“That is the point,” Mara said. “They want you dead before you become… this.”

She gestured vaguely at me, frustration flickering across her usually controlled features.

Ronan didn’t look away from my face. “What did you feel when you did it?”

The question caught me off guard.

I searched myself honestly. “Control.”

His jaw tightened.

“That’s not fear,” Mara muttered. “That’s dominance.”

I swallowed. “I don’t want to be your weapon.”

Ronan’s eyes darkened. “Then stop acting like one.”

Anger flared hot and fast. “You chained me to a floor.”

“To keep you alive.”

“You dragged me here.”

“To protect you.”

“You claimed me without consent.”

The bond surged, reacting violently to my words. Pain lanced through my chest, sharp and breath-stealing. I gasped, stumbling back a step.

Ronan swore under his breath and caught my arm before I could fall. The moment he touched me, the pain eased, replaced by a dizzying warmth that made my knees weak.

I hated that too.

“Enough,” he said, softer now. “This isn’t the place.”

He turned to Mara. “Secure the inner keep. Double the guards. No one approaches her without my permission.”

Her eyes flicked to me. “Including the Council?”

“Especially the Council.”

Mara inclined her head and left without another word.

Ronan didn’t release me immediately.

I became acutely aware of where his hand rested firm around my forearm, thumb brushing bare skin. The contact sent ripples through the bond, not demanding, just present.

“Let go,” I said quietly.

He did.

We stood there, an arm’s length apart, tension vibrating between us like a drawn bowstring.

“You should be shaking,” he said.

“I’m not.”

“No,” he agreed. “You’re not.”

His gaze drifted to the faint scratches on my wrists where the chains had been. Something unreadable passed through his eyes.

“The Council has crossed a line,” he continued. “They will push harder now.”

“Good,” I said bitterly. “At least they’re honest about wanting me dead.”

“They’re afraid,” he corrected. “And fear makes wolves cruel.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Ronan exhaled slowly. “You need training.”

I shook my head immediately. “No.”

“You nearly lost control.”

“I didn’t.”

“You will,” he said firmly. “Next time you won’t be facing one assassin. You’ll be facing packs.”

I clenched my jaw. “I won’t be your soldier.”

“You don’t get to choose ignorance,” he snapped. “Not when your existence destabilizes everything.”

“That’s not my fault!”

“No,” he said quietly. “But it is your responsibility now.”

The words settled heavy between us.

Responsibility.

For what I was.

For what I might become.

I laughed softly, humorless. “You really think a few lessons will fix this?”

“No,” Ronan said. “I think they’ll keep you alive long enough to decide who you are.”

That gave me pause.

Before I could respond, a wave of dizziness hit me. My vision blurred, the walls tilting. I reached out instinctively, catching myself on the stone.

Ronan was there instantly. “You’re burning.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” His hand hovered near my neck, hesitant, as if unsure whether touching me was a privilege or a threat. “Your wolf is pushing.”

“I didn’t invite her.”

“She doesn’t need permission.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t even know her name.”

Ronan frowned. “Her… name?”

“I hear her,” I admitted reluctantly. “She talks.”

That startled him.

“Most wolves don’t hear their wolf like that,” he said slowly. “Not so clearly. It usually takes years.”

“Lucky me.”

His gaze sharpened with something like concern. “This isn’t luck.”

He guided me back toward my chamber. I resisted at first, then gave in when another wave of weakness rolled through me. The corridor blurred past, torches smearing into streaks of light.

Once inside, the door shut firmly behind us.

Ronan turned to me. “Sit.”

I bristled. “Don’t.....”

“Please,” he said.

The word disarmed me more than a command ever could.

I sat.

He crouched in front of me, bringing us eye level. Up close, his power was overwhelming not aggressive, but immense, like standing too near a cliff’s edge. His eyes searched my face, lingering on the faint tremor in my hands.

“Why didn’t the rogue kill you?” he asked suddenly.

My breath hitched. The memory of yellow eyes in the forest, the way he’d stepped aside.

“I don’t know.”

Ronan studied me. “Rogues don’t spare unknown wolves. Especially not untrained ones.”

“He said… they would kill me for breathing.”

Ronan went still.

“That’s a Council phrase,” he said quietly.

My stomach dropped. “So they already knew about me.”

“Yes.”

“How?”

His gaze flicked away for the first time. “There are records. Bloodlines. Scents that don’t disappear.”

“Like mine.”

“Like yours.”

I swallowed hard. “Then why didn’t they come sooner?”

“Because you were hidden,” he replied. “Suppressed. Someone worked very hard to make sure you stayed small.”

Anger stirred beneath the fear. “My parents?”

Ronan hesitated.

That hesitation told me everything.

I pushed to my feet despite the dizziness. “You know something.”

“Lyra....”

“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t say my name like that.”

He stood as well. “You’re not ready.”

“I’m tired of not being ready.”

He held my gaze, something like conflict etched into his features. “There are truths that change how wolves see the world.”

“I already don’t belong in it.”

Silence stretched.

Finally, Ronan stepped back. “Rest. Tomorrow we begin controlled training.”

“I said no.”

“And I said this isn’t optional.”

He moved toward the door.

“If I run,” I called after him.

He paused.

“If you run,” he said without turning, “they will hunt you until the end of your days. And I won’t stop them.”

The door closed.

I sank back onto the bed, heart racing, thoughts spiraling.

My wolf stirred again, closer now.

They fear you, she murmured.

“Everyone does,” I whispered.

Not him.

I stared at the door.

“He doesn’t trust me.”

No, she agreed. He fears what you’ll become.

Sleep crept up on me again, heavy and unavoidable. This time, when the dream came, it was clearer.

I stood beneath a shattered moon.

Wolves knelt.

Blood stained my hands not from killing, but from holding something broken.

Ronan stood across from me, eyes not gold but dark, hollow.

Choice, whispered the darkness.

When I woke, dawn bled pale light across the room.

And for the first time, I understood one terrible truth:

Surviving wasn’t enough.

Whatever I was…

the world would demand a price for letting me breathe.