Chapter 8

RONAN'S POV

Dark.

That's all I know right now. Dark and quiet and the faint smell of her perfume lingering on clothes I'm hiding behind.

How is she going to respond?

I've run this through my head a hundred times since the meeting with Kendrick.

She'll deny it. Of course she'll deny it. She is able to live a double life for years with no issue. But maybe—maybe if I ask the right way, if I catch her off guard—

The door opens.

Light floods in. And she's right there. Three feet away. Staring at me.

She screams.

Not muffled—loud, shocked, her hand flying to her mouth. I hear footsteps in the hall. Guards. Coming.

"What—" She's backing up, eyes wide. "How did you—"

The door rattles. Someone calls her name.

She looks at the door. Looks at me. Looks at the door again.

"Sorry!" Her voice shifts, becoming meek and sweet. "I'm fine! I just—I saw a spider. It startled me. I'm fine."

Footsteps pause. Then retreat.

She turns back to me. The mask drops. Her eyes are pure fury.

"Are you insane? How did you get in here? What are you doing?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"Talk?" She hisses it. "You break into my room, hide in my wardrobe to talk? How did you even—"

I shrug. "You keep forgetting what I do. I track people. I don't get tracked."

She stares at me. Breathing hard. She just came out of the bathroom—hair damp, wearing something thin, something that clings. I notice. I definitely notice.

Then I force myself to look at her face instead.

"I have questions," I say. "And you're going to answer them."

She crosses her arms. It does nothing to help the situation.

"Ask then. Fast. Before I change my mind and call the guards back."

"It's about the killings."

Something shifts in her eyes. Careful now. "And what about them?"

"I discovered something recently."

"Speak up. I have to get dressed. I have to go meet my husband."

I look at her. She's just standing there, damp from the bathroom, her hard nipple evident through her thin cover up. I look away. Look back.

"You want to go meet him for what?"

She scoffs. "How is that any of your business? Say what you came to say and leave my room. I'm telling the Alpha to increase security here. I don't know how you got in and it is pissing me off."

"Says the person who gets into anywhere unnoticed."

She almost smiles. Almost. Then it's gone.

"What is it? What did you discover?"

"The organs."

Blank stare. "What organs?"

“The organs missing from the victims' bodies. The victims that you killed."

“ I don't understand what point you are trying to make”

"The victims. They're missing organs. Kidneys. Livers. Hearts. Every single body."

A beat. Two.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do."

"You think wrong." Her voice is ice now. "I kill them. I don't inventory them."

I watch her carefully. The slight tension in her jaw. The way her fingers press into her arms just a little too hard.

“You don't inventory them, you take them”.

She blinks. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I knew you were going to say that."

"What do you mean by that?" Her voice rises. "So you're saying—what? That I—" She laughs, but it's hollow. "Probably when I was killing them, my claws did some damage, okay? But I did not remove anything. Why are you here? To accuse me of stealing organs?"

I hold up my hands. "No. No, I just—I wanted to be sure. Because I noticed it and I thought—maybe someone else. Someone using your kills. I don't know."

She deflates. Just slightly. The anger still there but something else underneath.

"Okay," she says quietly. "Okay. I get it. You were checking.”

I nod. Move closer. Just a step.

"Elara—"

"Don't." But she doesn't move away.

We're close now. Too close. Her breath. My breath. The space between us is little.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have—"

"Then why did you?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about you."

She looks at me. Long and hard.

Then her hand is on my shirt. Pulling me closer. Her mouth on mine.

We break apart in seconds .Both breathing hard.

I look at her. Really look. That thing she's wearing—thin, revealing every curve and dips, leaving nothing to imagine.

"You should wear this to go meet him?"

She narrows her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"Just—" I shake my head. "If he sees you like this, I don't think he'll remember where he kept his brain."

A pause. Then, softer: "And what about you?"

I meet her eyes. "Obviously I'm aroused."

Something shifts in her face. Heat. Want. She steps closer. I don't know how but our bodies are fused now, there's no space left.

I can see it in her face now—the flush, the wanting. She's looking at my mouth.

I bend my head. Almost there. Stop.

Wait.

She moves first. Closes the last inch. And then we're kissing and it's nothing like last time. Last time was desperation. This is hunger.

I lift her. She wraps around me. We move without words. The bed hits the back of her legs. She goes down. I go with her.

The kiss goes deeper. My mouth on her throat. Her hands in my hair. The sounds she's making—

I pulled open her cover up, my hands rounding up one boobs, while my mouth leaves her throat to suckle on the other one.

She moaned lightly, her body aching towards me and I groaned lowly.

It's feeling like a dream, I'm holding Elara, I'm kissing Elara, I'm about to make love to her.

I moved my hands down her stomach, towards her center and when my fingers dipped into her, I felt stuck.

She is so ready, so full and so wet and all I want is to take her away from here.

I pulled my finger from her and tasted her , losing all control of my senses as the taste of her swells and burst in my mouth.

I want more, I need more of her.

I'm about to—

I'm—

She pushes.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is ragged. Hands on my chest.

I stare at her. "I'm loving you. I'm wanting you. What's wrong with that?"

"I'm married."

I blink. "What do you mean, so?"

"I am married to him." She sits up, pulling that thing back around herself. "I am not cheating on him."

"You're doing that right now."

"I was." She looks away. "I won't. Not anymore."

"I thought you hated him."

"I do." Her voice cracks. "But that doesn't mean I overlook my vows."

I don't move. Don't understand.

"Elara—"

"Leave."

"Just let me—"

"Leave, Ronan. Please."

I rose and walked to the door, I stood there, trying to catch my breath, trying to understand what just happened.

"So." My voice is rough. I clear my throat. "Are you going with him? To meet Simon west?"

She looks up. Frowns. "Who is Simon west?"

"I don't know. He's supposed to have a meeting. Some business thing. Didn't clarify much, just that it has to do with farming."

"He didn't mention it to me either."

"Oh." I nod. Stupidly. "So I guess I won't see you there."

She stares at me. "Were you planning to be there?"

"I was thinking if you were going, I'd find a reason to come."

A long pause. She pulls that thing tighter around herself.

"I'm not going."

"Okay then." I reached for the latch. Stop. Look back. "I don't know when I'll see you."

She's sitting on the bed. Not looking at me.

She doesn't answer.

"Goodbye, Elara."

I leave.

---

The hallway is dark. I move quiet. Past the guards. Through the servants' corridor. The east stairwell. The kitchen. The gap in the fence I found earlier.

Three seconds. Four. Through.

Her face stays with me the whole way.The forest swallows me.

I don't stop until I reach my car. Hand on the door. Then I just stand there.

Fuck.

I press my forehead against the cool glass. Breathe.

I wanted her. God, I wanted her. The way she looked at me, the way she moved closer, the way her mouth opened under mine—she wanted it too. I know she did.

Then she stopped.

For him.

For the man who burned our world down. Who killed everyone. Who took everything from both of us. And she stops because of vows? Because she won't cheat on him?

I slam my hand against the car. Once. Twice.

He's already ruined everything. He took our pack. Our people. Our future. And now he gets this too? He gets her loyalty? Her morals? Even after all he did, she still chooses him over me?

I know it's selfish. I know she's been through things I can't imagine. I know she has children, a life, reasons I don't understand.

But right now, leaning against this car in the dark, I don't care about any of that.

I just know she wanted me. And she stopped.

And it's his fault. Again.

Fuck.