CHAPTER 5

Ronan's POV

I stood frozen at Hebathi’s words.

Even though she could sense I was lying, she still wanted to help me, genuinely and wholeheartedly!

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words just wouldn't form. I didn't know what to say or how to respond to her. The storm inside me was too loud and chaotic.

I needed time to think and process everything.

My legs moved of their own accord, carrying me toward the black throne that loomed in the center of the chamber.

The throne of the Rogue Sovereign.

I sank into the seat, leaning forward, my elbows resting on my knees, and buried my face in my hands. The pull of despair clawed at my mind and sanity.

Her footsteps clicked toward me, but I didn't look up. I couldn't.

“Ronan,” Hebathi said softly, standing before me. Her voice carried such tenderness that it magnified my guilt.

Before I could react, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know how much you’ve longed for your wolf. I’ve seen the way you carry his absence like a wound that refuses to heal. I know how empty it’s made you feel, how you’ve blamed yourself for losing him.”

I felt her words sink deep, hitting parts of me I’d buried long ago.

My throat tightened, but I said nothing.

“But this…” She pulled back slightly, just enough to look at me. “This is a sign, Ronan. A sign of hope. He isn’t gone—not completely. And that means there’s a chance to bring him back. I'm glad that I was wrong. He isn't dead.”

I shook my head, my hands gripping the edges of the throne so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Her hands moved to cup my face, forcing me to meet her gaze. “You’re not alone in this,” she said firmly. “You never have been. I will stand by your side, no matter how long it takes. No matter how many times we fail. I won’t let you bear this burden alone.”

Her words broke something in me, and I felt the sting of tears pressing at the corners of my eyes.

I wanted to believe her, to let her hope anchor me, but the fear of disappointment was something I couldn’t ignore.

“What if I can’t bring him back?” I asked. “What if… what if this is all I’ll ever be? A broken Alpha. A shell.”

“You’re not a shell,” she said, her voice fierce.

“You’re Ronan. You’re the Rogue Sovereign. You’ve built an empire from nothing, led the broken, the feral, and the damned when no one else could. You’ve done all of that without your wolf. And if you can do that, you can bring him back. I believe in you.”

I blinked, staring at this woman and wondering what I had done to deserve her.

After everything that had happened—Thalia's betrayal, my banishment from the Bloodstone Pack, and Fenris's death—Hebathi was the only thing that made sense in this broken world.

Her belief in my ability to rebuild and fix what had been shattered should have been a lifeline, but with Thalia now back in my life, everything was complicated.

I was no fool not to believe that Thalia’s presence had been the one to stir Fenris in the first place. My former mate.

Even now, I couldn't ignore the way my heart still ached for her, despite everything she had done. I had sent her to the dungeon ruthlessly, appearing to want nothing to do with her, but a part of me still yearned for her touch, scent, everything!

I glanced at Hebathi, seeing the love in her eyes. She loved me, and I knew, deep down, that I might have allowed myself to love her in return. But with Thalia still lingering in my mind, in my heart, I couldn’t bring myself to fully give in.

The two women—Hebathi and Thalia—were like two opposing forces inside me, pulling me in different directions, and I didn’t know how to reconcile them.

I felt my throat tighten as the reality of it all settled in. I had to make a choice, but I wasn’t ready yet. Not now.

“Thank you, Hebathi,” I whispered, leaning forward and pressing my lips to her forehead. “I just… I need space. Time to think. Please.”

She nodded, her eyes understanding, but there was a flicker of pain there too.

“Yes, my king,” she said softly. “Call for me when you need me.”

And then, without another word, she turned and left.

I remained seated on the throne, my fingers tightly grabbing the armrests.

The room felt empty without Hebathi's presence, but I could manage.

I was used to feeling empty.

The gears of my mind started to shift, thinking of ways to tackle this new development—Thalia's reappearance and Fenris's emergence.

Thalia, my former mate, was the key. I was certain of that, even though it gnawed at my soul.

Somehow, her presence had stirred Fenris, reawakened him when I thought he was lost to me forever.

The bond between us, twisted and broken as it had been, still carried weight.

The idea that she was the one to undo my pain, to bring Fenris back, both terrified and consumed me.

I leaned back, closing my eyes in an attempt to clear my thoughts, but the images only swirled faster.

My mind raced through possibilities. Hebathi’s magic, potent and pure as she was, could have been a lifeline—she was the last of the pureblooded elves, after all.

A creature of ancient magic could have potentially helped figure out the reason for my wolves sudden emergence.

But that would mean dragging her into a secret she wasn’t meant to know.

My life before she found me, and before I became the Rogue Sovereign.

I didn't know what she would do if she found out Thalia's identity, and I wasn't looking forward to finding out.

I sat up, my hands running over my face as a wave of frustration slammed into me.

After a few minutes of thinking, an idea crept into my mind. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

A place, a person—someone who might hold the answers, who might have knowledge older than even Hebathi’s magic. Someone whose ability to peer into the fabric of time and fate could guide me.

I needed to visit the Lyravha.