018: a bitter claim

Ronon’s POV

I knew Lyra would try to eavesdrop, so I did not bother speaking out loud. Kael would understand. I reached out through the mind link, careful to keep my expression unreadable even as my thoughts churned.

“Stasia gave me an ultimatum.”

Kael glanced at me briefly, his face unreadable. “Let me guess, reject Lyra, or she walks?”

“Exactly. She won’t even be in the same room with me unless I cut Lyra loose.” I stared out the window, jaw tight.

“Then do it,” Kael replied coolly. “You were planning to anyway. I don’t see the problem.”

But I heard it, the slight note of judgment in his voice. Not outright disapproval, but close. I gritted my teeth. “It’s not just about that.”

“No?”

“If I reject her, it might ruin your and Dax’s chance at magic.” It sounded weak, even to me. A justification I’d repeated too many times.

Kael scoffed softly. “Ronon, come on. You really think we’re getting anything with the bond in its current state? The magic doesn’t care about excuses. She’s tainted, remember? Your words. If you’re going to reject her, do it. No one’s stopping you.”

Silence stretched between us as I clenched my fists in my lap. I hated this. I hated that I hesitated. Hated that somewhere beneath the loathing and frustration, something in me refused to let her go. She was nothing like Stasia. Stasia was stable, elegant, proper, exactly what a future Luna should be.

But Lyra…

She was wildfire. Chaos. Sharp-tongued, distant, proud. And I could not stop thinking about her.

“You don’t really want to reject her, do you?” Kael asked, quieter now.

I turned my gaze away. I wanted to lie. Wanted to say that I didn’t give a damn. But I couldn’t.

“There’s no shame in it,” he continued. “She’s your mate too. Maybe it’s time to stop fighting it. Maybe it’s time to let Stasia go.”

My jaw clenched. “It’s not about Stasia,” I muttered, though we both knew it was. And it wasn’t. “I can’t be with Lyra. Not someone like her.”

Kael didn’t respond right away. He waited. And I gave in.

“She didn’t wait,” I said, my voice low and bitter. “She knew we were fated and still… she gave herself to someone else. That’s not something I can overlook.”

“You were raised differently. But maybe she didn’t know. Or maybe she was surviving.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

A heavy pause, then Kael sighed. “So what’s the plan, Ronon? Because this indecision is exhausting to watch.”

I hesitated, then laid it out. The one path I’d been contemplating in secret.

“When you and Dax finally decide to claim her, I’ll do it too. I’ll complete the bond with her.”

Kael’s brow furrowed. “I thought you said—”

“Afterward, I’ll leave. I’ll go back to Stasia.”

He stared at me, stunned. “What? That’s—Ronon, that’s cruel. You’d both suffer. You know that, right? She’ll feel the bond fully formed, then feel you rip it away. And you—”

“I’ll survive,” I said, voice cold. “Stasia will never have all of me, but she’ll have enough. And Lyra? She’ll know the bond was real. She’ll feel it in her bones. And then she’ll know she was never enough.”

Kael looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. His silence was louder than any words. With a shake of his head. He left the room, disgust written plainly across his features.

Alone, I let the weight of my words settle in. It wasn’t fair, not to Stasia, not to Lyra. But fairness had no place in a world where your fate was decided by some celestial force. I did not  choose this bond. I did not ask to be tied to a woman who had a history soaked in mystery and shame.

I turned to look at Lyra, curled on the edge of the couch, staring into space like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her expression did not shift when she caught me watching her. No anger, no pleading. Just that blank, infuriating indifference.

The resentment bubbled up again. I stood and walked toward her, the words bitter before they even left my mouth.

“Thanks to you, Stasia no longer wants me,” I said flatly.

Her head turned slowly. She stared at me like I was dirt under her shoe. I hateD that stare. Hated how it made me feel, like the villain in a story I didn’t write.

“If you hadn’t been so” I started. Then stopped myself. I did not want to repeat what others had said about her. But the poison had already dripped from my tongue.

She said nothing. Not a single word. Just looked at me like I was nothing.

I felt the flush of shame, twisted by rage. “Kael and Dax might let you go. But if they do, try not to screw every man you meet.”

There it was, the slap of silence. Harsher than any spoken word. Her glare was pure venom. And I backed away before I did something I’d regret.

I left the house and didn’t stop moving until I was deep into pack territory. Far from the suffocating walls of that house. I buried myself in work. Meetings, logistics. Disciplinary hearings, anything to keep my mind off the girl with the eyes that saw right through me.

Hours passed. My chest still burned.

I stopped by the florist on the way back, picking out a bouquet of pale pink roses. Stasia’s favorite. She always said roses were a symbol of grace and loyalty. Traits she said she saw in me. I didn’t correct her.

When I knocked at her apartment, she opened the door in a silk robe. Her hair perfectly curled, eyes wide and expectant. I forced a smile.

“Ronon,” she breathed, stepping aside. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I needed space. Things have been… complicated.”

I handed her the roses. Her expression softened, and she leaned in. Brushing her lips to my cheek.

“I missed you.”

I nodded but didn’t reply. I didn’t miss her, not really. I missed the idea of her. Of us.

Of peace.

As she placed the roses in a vase, I watched her move, elegant, deliberate, predictable. There was no fire here. No tug in my chest. No wild longing. Only calm. Only routine.

I tried to anchor myself in that comfort. Tried to imagine a life without chaos. But every time I closed my eye. I saw Lyra, eyes defiant, voice sharp, presence unignorable.

“She’s nothing,” I whispered to myself. “She’s nothing to me.”

But even I didn’t believe it anymore.