fifteen days

Morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, warm and bright against Eliara's face. She stirred slowly, still caught in the heavy fog between sleep and waking, until the unfamiliar softness beneath her registered. The bed was far too comfortable far too luxuriousto belong to her.

Her eyes opened. For one brief second, confusion clouded her mind. Then memory returned, the hotel, the kidnapping. The violet-eyed man. Her body tensed instantly. She turned to the other side of the bed—and froze.

Ronan was lying beside her. He looked completely at ease, one arm tucked beneath his head, his violet eyes already open and fixed on her. There was a faint smirk on his lips, as though he had been awake for a while and had simply been waiting for her to notice him. Shock shot through her so violently that she lost all balance. Eliara yelped and rolled straight off the bed. She landed on the floor with a hard thud, pain shooting through her hip.

Ronan's smirk widened. For a second, neither of them spoke. Then Eliara scrambled backward across the polished floor, staring at him like he had grown another head.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded, voice sharp with panic and outrage.

Ronan slowly pushed himself upright, leaning back against the headboard with lazy grace. His dark hair was slightly messy from sleep, softening the sharpness of his features in a way that somehow made him even more annoyingly attractive.

"I slept here," he said simply, Eliara stared. That answer was so absurd her brain nearly refused to process it.

"I can see that," she snapped. "Why?"

The question had barely left her mouth before panic slammed into her.

Eliara's eyes widened.

Her hands flew to herself instantly—her neck, shoulders, dress, waist—checking frantically for any sign that something had happened while she slept. Her breathing turned uneven as ugly thoughts rushed into her head. No…

Her gaze darted to the blanket.

Then to him. Then back to herself. Her stomach twisted. Had he touched her? Had he- Her mind jumped to the food from last night. The food. Her eyes sharpened. Had they drugged it?

Was that why she had fallen asleep no matter how hard she fought?

She looked up at him, fury exploding through her chest.

"What did you do to me?" Ronan said nothing at first. He simply watched her. Then, to her disbelief, a low chuckle escaped him.

That made something inside her snap.

"What is funny?" she demanded. "What did you do?!" He tilted his head slightly, violet eyes unreadable. "Nothing."

Eliara stared.

Her voice rose.

"Nothing?"

"Yes."

"That's a lie."

"It isn't."

He moved with lazy calm, swinging his legs off the bed and standing. Even half-awake, he carried himself like someone born to command space.

"I did not touch you," he said.

Eliara narrowed her eyes.

"I don't believe you."

"That sounds like your problem."

Her jaw clenched.

This man— Everything about him was infuriating. The way he spoke. The way he looked at her, as if he had already decided the outcome of every conversation before it began. She folded her arms tightly.

"Then why are you here?! Why am I here?"

That made him pause. This time, his expression shifted—just slightly.

Not softer.

More focused.

He walked toward her, slow enough not to startle her, stopping a few feet away.

"Because I want you." he said.

"I already told y...."

"I like you."He rephrased his sentence, cutting her off.

Eliara frowned.

That was unexpected.

Ronan continued.

"I prefer challenges."

Her confusion deepened.

He studied her face before speaking again.

"You interest me, Eliara."

A chill ran through her. Good riddances. Looks like he's already digged into her since he now knows her name.

"So here is my offer."

She said nothing.

"I am giving you fifteen days."

Silence.

Eliara blinked.

"…What?"

"Fifteen days," he repeated. "You will stay here with me."

Her face hardened immediately.

"No."

He ignored her.

"In fifteen days, I will make you want me."

Her entire body stiffened.

He kept speaking.

"You will fall for me willingly."

The arrogance.

The sheer arrogance.

Eliara nearly laughed.

"If, after fifteen days, you still feel nothing…" he said, "I will personally return you to that market. Exactly where you were picked up from "

Now she was staring.

He finished.

"And I will never bother you again."

For a moment, the room became completely silent. Eliara searched his face for mockery but she found none. He was serious. Like actually serious. Then disbelief turned into outrage and suddenly she let out a short, incredulous laugh.

"You're insane."

Ronan said nothing.

"You kidnapped me—drugged me—dragged me across the city—and now you're giving me some ridiculous deadline like this is a game? Do I look like a toy you can play with?" Eliara threw her hands up.

"You can't make someone fall for you in fifteen days!"

One brow lifted.

"Can't I?"

"Yes!"

His lips curved slightly.

"We'll see."

Her breathing sharpened again.

No. No, this was absurd. Who even thought like this? Who lived like this? Then something occurred to her. She narrowed her eyes.

"Why?" That word came out quieter. Real curiosity this time.

"Why me?"

For the first time since she woke, Ronan did not answer immediately.

His gaze drifted.

And for a brief second, his mind returned to last night.

After bringing her here, after the confrontation in the hotel, he had returned straight to the mansion. He should have slept. Instead, he hadn't. He had sat alone in his study for hours, replaying every moment.

The market. Her scent. Her eyes. Her rejection. None of it made sense. A Lesser Wolf should not affect him like this. And yet she did. He remembered leaning back in his chair long after midnight, annoyed with himself. He had tried to reduce it to something simple.

Lust. Desire. Temporary obsession. That had to be it because nothing else made sense. No woman had ever resisted him. No one had looked him in the eye and refused him. And yet… that wasn't even the strangest part.

It was the scent. Something stronger even. Something impossible. He still didn't know what.

And he hated not knowing. His gaze returned to Eliara. Because now he understood one thing.

He wasn't letting her go.

Not until he had answers.

Not until he understood why she affected him.

Ronan finally spoke.

"Because," he said quietly, "you are the first thing in years I haven't understood."

Eliara frowned. She didn't know what that meant. But she didn't like the intensity in his eyes. Not one bit. And deep down for reasons she couldn't explain those words unsettled her far more than his threats ever had. Ronan held her gaze, waiting as if he expected fear, anger, defiance, all of it, and found each reaction equally fascinating.

Eliara's fingers curled into fists at her sides.

She hated this. Hated how calm he was.

Hated how every word from him felt deliberate, like he was placing pieces on a board while she was still trying to understand the game.

Most of all, she hated the strange unease crawling beneath her skin.

Because some instinct deep inside her one she had learned long ago never to ignore was screaming that this man was dangerous in ways she still didn't understand.

She forced her chin up.

"I'm not staying."