Chapter 8

Lana’s POV

I drew closer to the door silently, and leaned in.

“And you’re being a tyrant!” Finn retorted.

“What did you expect? You felt it, the same as I did the moment she arrived. The pull. You can’t just ignore a matebond because it’s inconvenient!”

Matebond? What is that?

“It’s not a matebond,” Ronan’s voice was a low, dangerous snarl. “She’s human. She can never be my mate.”

They were talking about me, but what do I have to do with they matebond they were talking about?

“That’s not a valid reason, and you know it. The Moon Goddess works in her own ways. You brought her here because of it, don’t lie to me. You felt the damn connection and you tricked her into coming to the pack because of it.”

I stopped breathing, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a gasp. Tricked her? My mind raced back to his offer, the contract, the way he’d appeared in my darkest moment. It wasn't a chance. It wasn't a pity.

There was a heavy silence from the study. When Ronan spoke again, his voice was so quiet I had to strain to hear it.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel. She is a means nothing to me.”

The words he uttered seared themselves into my soul, leaving me frozen in the dark hallway, utterly shattered. It felt like a physical blow, knocking the air from my lungs.

Finn sniffed the air, and said in a hushed voice, “I think someone is outside, I’ll go check.”

I quietly rushed into the kitchen, and hid myself behind the island. After a while, I heard their footsteps going up the stairs. I came out of my hiding, drank some water and went upstairs to rest my head. There was no point going outside, cause the whole thought of going out was to relieve myself from thinking too much, but here I am, with more thoughts in my head.

The rest of the night passed in a sleepless haze. I lay in bed, staring at the ornate ceiling, replaying every moment since I’d met Ronan Lancaster. The offer that had seemed too good to be true. The way he’d looked at me, not with pity, but with… assessment. Like he was evaluating a new acquisition. The heat in his gaze on the balcony hadn’t been jealousy; it had been the anger of an owner finding someone else tampering with his property. Every kindness, every flicker of something I’d mistaken for connection in Ronan’s dark eyes, it was nothing but a lie. A calculated move in a game I didn’t know I was playing.

A cold, sharp clarity cut through the fog of my fear. I wasn’t a person here. I was a tool. A thing.

I had bearly slept when I felt light rays on my skin. I stood up, freshened up, and started my day.

Dorothy was already awake when I entered her room, sitting up in bed and clutching her wolf drawing. She looked at me with those big, solemn eyes, and my resolve wavered for a second. How could I leave her? This little girl who had already lost so much.

“Good morning sweetheart,” I said, my voice was rough from lack of sleep.

She didn’t smile, but she held up her drawing book. It was the drawing of yesterday, the wolf with the grey eyes. The so-called princess that was coming to save their world. I felt a strange pang looking at it, an echo of the connection I’d felt before. Now this just felt like another part of the trap.

“She’s beautiful,” I managed to say, my voice tight.

“How was your night sweetie?’ I asked.

She looked at me for a moment before she replied with a low voice, “It was fine.”

My body went through the motions while my mind raced, mapping the hallways I’d seen, searching for exits. The maid, Sarah, gave me a small, sympathetic smile as she set down a plate of toast. I couldn’t see her eyes. Was she in on it? Was everyone?

I was pushing eggs around my plate when he entered the dining room.

Ronan.

His presence immediately sucked all the air from the space. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and dark pants, his hair still damp, as if he’d just come from the bathroom. Or a fight. His eyes found mine instantly. He walked directly towards our table. Dorothy shrunk back in her chair, her small fingers gripped her fork tightly.

He stopped beside me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the crisp, clean scent of pine and night air that clung to him. It was a scent that, for a foolish moment, had made me feel safe. But now, it makes my skin crawl.

“Lana,” he said, my name a low command on his lips.

“We need to talk. In my study. Now.”

It wasn’t a request. It was an order from the Alpha, the highest rank in the werewolf community.

Every instinct screamed at me to refuse, to run, to scream, but I knew that would be a death sentence. I had to be smart if I wanted to live here alive. I had to play the part of an obedient, ignorant human a little while longer.

I placed my napkin neatly on the table and stood, my legs steady despite the turmoil inside. “Of course,” I said, my voice miraculously even.

I followed him out of the dining room, his broad back a wall of menace in front of me. He didn’t speak as we walked through the quiet halls, the tension between us a living, breathing thing. My mind raced. Did he know I’d overheard him?

He held the study door open for me. I walked in, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room was exactly as it was yesterday, it smelled of leather and him.

He closed the door behind us with a soft, final click.

I turned to face him, bracing myself, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.